A Snowbound, Single-Mom’s Prayer (Original Poetry)

Well, it’s day two of this winter blizzard, and the schools have been closed both days. When you’re homebound with two young, energetic kids you have to keep a sense of humor and an attitude of faith and hope! I enjoy sleeping in, and I love my kids dearly, but boy am I looking forward to the dog days of summer! I wrote this poem for fun. It’s titled “A Snowbound Single-Mom’s Prayer”. Hope you like it:

Now I come in from the cold
No help with groceries
Nor hand to hold
The kids are excited about the snow
And my only prayer is that the lights won’t blow
Please keep the heat and the television going
So I’ll have a little peace and work flow while it’s snowing
And after movies, popcorn and snuggling of course
And the kids are finally tucked in their bed
May a handsome and thoughtful neighbor arrive
To lay my salt and shovel a path around my…shed.

January 22, 2014 3

Back to life…back to reality…

Well, today’ it’s back to school for the kids, and getting back to the mindset of prosperity, writing and productive work for me! This year was the first year that I stayed home with the kids for their entire winter break and did not schedule them for day camp at the Y or any other place. I thought that I deserved to have just one day to myself during their ten day break, but intuition told me to just enjoy them. Sometimes when I hear that voice that whispers to me to take time out for them, I can become fearful that I’m getting a message that something may happen to them or me and that is the reason we should cherish this time. But then I realize that sometimes it may just be their subconscious speaking to mine and they just need more mommy time. So, I made sure we had groceries and that the cable bill was paid and made no plans other than to attend a local Kwanzaa celebration and enjoy our family and friends during the holidays. We had a few impromptu yet fulfilling lunch and dinner gatherings with friends, some football, board games, reading, lots of movie time on the couch, a few pajama days and even some days that they were both not feeling well, and recovering. It was the first time that I purposely chose not to try and “use” the time to cram in every library, museum or other extra curricular event that looked exciting and intriguing during the holiday break. They both get so over-worked (in my opinion) at school that I wanted them to just do nothing for a change. Yes we may have put on a pound or two and the kids may be raddled due to the relaxed sleep schedules, but their bodies are healed, they got lots of love, snuggles, family time and cultural enrichment, and most of all a break from the day to day stress of school and extra-curricular activities.

They are not over-scheduled like many suburban kids I know of these days, but I do try to balance the lack

of gross motor activities in the schools with sports and dance and other physical recreation. Aside from the recreation, they both will be taking Mandarin Chinese this semester on Saturday mornings (my son is in his sixth year, and my daughter wants to do whatever her big brother does), so we have a few commitments but not excessive. I don’t do more than one sport in a season unless it’s swimming lessons, and unless they are with their father for the weekend, or beg me to see the latest Disney movie, we spend Friday and Sunday nights at home. Even energetic and/or brilliant kids need down time too. They need time to relax and release and not worry about time and schedules and assignments. And for this reason Friday nights at our house are sacred. They are almost always reserved for what the kids refer to as “movie night”. We get early showers, get in our pajamas, pull out the fleece blankets, search for a great family movie, pop some popcorn (or grab a bag from the Wawa) and head to the couch for snuggle time. It’s the most inexpensive way to treat them to a special night and after all of these years it’s still their favorite night of the week. They love it because they get uninterrupted quality time with me and I love it because I know there will soon be a day when Friday nights will be spent with a blanket, myself and a good book because they’ll be at the mall, going to a movie or a party with their friends. So for now, for reasons I don’t necessarily share with them, it’s my favorite night of the week too!

January 2, 2014 4

The Courage to Change…

Well it’s the first full week of school and this is the first time in about ten years that I’ve ever had six hours of continuous, uninterrupted time on a weekday (unless of course I was ill or it was a holiday!). As a self-employed professional and full time mother, I spend my time home with my children embracing every beautiful moment with them. I try to teach them values and create experiences for them that they will cherish for a lifetime because I believe our job as parents is not to smother and dis-able them but to equip them with the abilities to survive a life without us. My baby girl started first grade this year and it’s such a beautiful yet difficult transition for me. She is the type of child who is so loving and so full of energy that she requires 110% of your attention. The love you receive in return is so genuine that you don’t resent the time, however exhausting it can be. Last year she wanted me to walk her to the doorway of the school, give her a hug and kiss, was hesitant about even walking into the school and she was only there for a few hours each day! I volunteered in the classroom a minimum of once a week and there was always a sad face when I left even though I would be back there in half an hour to pick her up from school. Needless to say I was concerned about how she would handle a full day of school, desks and eating in the lunchroom. She was so nervous about the first day and worried about it being all new until we walked into the classroom and saw one of her best friends sitting up front. I exhaled a huge sigh of relief, she turned around quickly to say “by Mom!” without even the usual hug and kiss and she quickly disappeared into the fold of children. That Friday she asked if she could walk to school and come home by herself. My mouth dropped and I thought ‘it took my son until second grade to make that request’…am I being one of those smothering moms??

The most difficult lesson about parenting I feel, is learning to let go and I was about to get yet another lesson. Monday morning I grabbed my keys, walked her out the door and down the walkway to the street and she turned around and said “by mom, have a good day” in order to stop me in my tracks. She wanted to walk across the street and off to school without me! I thought she was joking until she turned around, looked at my feet progressing forward and said “I can do it myself”. For a moment I chuckled inside because my mother used to always joke that I came out of the womb saying those exact words. I took a deep breath, smiled, said “OK” and pointed her in the direction of the crossing guard. I let go. Well, okay so I live directly across the street from her elementary school and the crossing guard is practically on my doorstep when she comes out in the morning, but it was still a huge risk for me! 🙂 Today is day two and she didn’t even want me to leave the doorway of our home, but I told her I had to at least come off the porch to make sure the crossing guard was there on the corner, so she allowed me to keep walking. She seems to be handling the transition well, and I am left to sit in quiet with no choice but to meditate on the next step on my life’s journey to joy. I have made so many sacrifices – personal and financial – in order to be the face that my kids see first thing in the morning and coming home from school in the afternoon. I’ve juggled work schedules, lost clients, lost friends, missed a lot of fun parties, workshops and educational opportunities, all because of my commitment to my children and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I would do it for any child because they are our future and will one day be making decisions that affect my life. I’ve accepted my role here as their guardian and I’ve felt that way about all children for as long as I can remember. I strongly believe if our children grow up knowing that they are the most important person in the lives of those who have created them, they will be confident, loving beings and will spread that love and compassion to all those that they touch.

And we may just change the world. One courageous child at a time.

September 10, 2013 2

“In the middle of a street in Camden, NJ” – by J.T.Austin Jr.

I always thought that I acquired my gift of writing from my mother because she always kept a journal and I knew that she loved to write. It wasn’t until my father, as he began to age, passed along some of his writings to me that I became aware that it was his passion that I inherited. I was instantly transported to the time and place in his short essays and recognized the similarities in our writing styles. I now know that my love for words and my lyrical style was passed to me from Dad. I read this short essay at his memorial service this past Saturday (more to come about that) and several people have asked for a copy of it, so I am posting it on my blog. It was one of many small glimpses into the sensitive side of my dad that until his later years, was only uncovered in his writing. I can’t wait to put all of his thoughts into book form but for now, I’ll share one of my favorites so far:

In the middle of a street in Camden, NJ

Four of my grandchildren came to visit me on my 69^th birthday, Jameel, Aamir, Naim and Hammad. They brought me a cake, a shirt, a food mixer, a birthday card and their wonderful company. As we laughed and talked together my mind began to rewind , but first I thought about my other four grandchildren and my great-granddaughter. After my grandkids had left, I looked at all their pictures and my mind lapsed again and tears came as I thought about a time long ago when two young people stood in the middle of a small Camden, NJ street. It must have rained that day as I remember the street glistened. They had been on her porch when she suggested that they take a walk. The young couple walked hand in hand down the sidewalk and started across the street when the girl stopped, looked up at the boy with tears in her eyes and said “ I’ve missed my period.” She put her head on his chest and sobbed. He imagined she thought he might leave her. His head was whirling. He thought , how’s he gonna support a wife and kid when he can’t support himself and then thought about the doctor at Hamilton Air Force Base in California who told him that because of the VD he had contracted overseas, he could never have children. So was this his child?? But when he looked down into the big wet eyes of HIS girl who was having HIS child, he kissed her, smiled and said “let’s get out of the street”. Well, they walked and talked, kissed and held each other. Two young people, in love, who didn’t have a clue how life was going to treat them but they started out together. So as I look at all these people we’re responsible for – four children, eight grandchildren, and one great-grandchild – 13 people who came here because of those two young lovers in the middle of a Camden street beginning to learn about life. The tears really begin to fall as I think “Well, ‘Fat Cheeks’, we didn’t do so bad, not bad at all!”

Written by Jabez T. Austin Jr

10/16/2008

May 21, 2013 4

Toni’s Room Blog – 2012 in review. Thank you for visiting!

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The new Boeing 787 Dreamliner can carry about 250 passengers. This blog was viewed about 1,100 times in 2012. If it were a Dreamliner, it would take about 4 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

December 30, 2012 2

But for the Grace…

I know there’s been so much that’s already been said about the senseless killings of the Sandy Hook Elementary School children and staff, and so many early judgements about the killer, his family and why it happened. But I feel like I need to share the fear that came up for me and maybe for someone else who is reading this. It scares me that it could have just as easily happened at the elementary school across the street from my home where my daughter attends school, but what scared me even more was the profile of the shooter. This young male was described by his classmates as nice, quiet, didn’t talk much, didn’t say anything bad about anyone…obviously brilliant…parents had recently divorced and he lived with his mother in a quiet town and no one would have thought in a million years that he was capable of such a thing. They were describing my first born word for word. Quiet, brilliant, keeps to himself and maybe quietly stuffing emotions that a “tween” experiences as a result of separation or divorce. It removed all judgement from my heart when I realized that but for the Grace of God and awareness on my part, this could have been my own son.

And if I didn’t pay attention to his emotions, if I didn’t keep the communication between us open, if I didn’t try and keep positive role models (especially male) in his life, encourage him to stay involved in sports, show care and concern about what concerns him- even if I think it’s senseless – and hug and kiss him every chance I get even when it embarrasses him, there but for the Grace of God would he be.
I don’t assume to know the family dynamics, but it did confirm for me that I was doing the right thing just hours before the news broke.

Because my Ex is dealing with his own childhood trauma (or rather, not dealing with it), he has begun to distance himself from our children’s lives. This type of abandonment can be devastating to young children, and has shaken up our lives a bit. The ironic thing is that just an hour or two before I heard the news I was on the phone with my son’s former and my daughter’s current Guidance Counselor. Fear and shame keep a lot of people, especially in our culture, from seeking outside help for family and emotional trauma. And there are some who have told me that just loving them is enough, but sometimes it isn’t. I have always been open-minded and willing to choose support over suffering, even if I had to fight through the shame. It takes a lot of courage to expose your most sensitive and private thoughts to a stranger; but if it meant that it would save my son from suffocating in quiet pain and anger and my daughter from seeking unhealthy sources of love and comfort in their tween/teens, then I was ready and willing. Sometimes as a parent you have to be proactive.

After the uncomfortable phone call I felt a little more encouraged, supported and equipped with the knowledge and resources I could utilize to support my kids. They say “things happen for a reason”. I pray these lives were not lost in vain. I pray comfort for all of those heartbroken. I pray this country will make a serious effort to keep our kids and communities safe. I pray that it will bring a global awareness that will save our country and all of our children from suffering in silence. I know that just one parent will be doing a little more than just hugging her children a little tighter at night. It’s time for Action – for all of our children. What are you willing to do?

December 16, 2012 9

God Has Answered

It’s so amazing when you can look back on the major events in your life and see where God has not necessarily answered your exact prayer, but gave you exactly what you needed. I wanted so desperately to have another boy. My son was so easy-going, mild-tempered, played happily by himself, ate whatever I put in front of him, weaned himself off of me before the age of one and was willing and excited to go anywhere and do anything I suggested. He was such a bright and happy kid and definitely a momma’s boy. I wanted another just like him!

When they told me (because I could never be one of those women who find out the sex of the baby on the operating table) at the ultrasound that it was a girl, I almost cried. I felt so disappointed. I knew what a handful I was as a young girl, and how much I resisted whatever my mom said was the “right thing to do” when I was a tween, and I was not ready for the challenge. I wasn’t ready to release the boxes and boxes of beautifully preserved boys clothing that I had so carefully packed away in anticipation, and did not want to paint the nursery pink or buy all new pink fluffy clothing. I grew up in a houseful of boys – three brothers and a mass of their close friends whom I considered my “play” brothers. I knew how boys thought, what their interests were and was comfortable being around them.

What was I going to do with a girl?? My friends and family were all excited that we would have the “rich man’s family – one boy and one girl. They all told me that I would love having a daughter, that one day we’d enjoy laughter over manicures, tea cups and pretend cookies and that we would be the best of friends. If it weren’t for the close relationship I had with my mom, I would not have believed a word they said. But my mind still went fast forward to her teenage years where I saw us fighting all the time and her sneaking out the bedroom window to run away with some foolish boy. After all I had nausea the entire nine months I carried her and it couldn’t have been a more miserable pregnancy. I thought, “this is not going to be good”, and secretly hoped the ultrasound was wrong. But God knew best.

This pregnancy came after suffering three miscarriages within a two-year period, and yet I still considered trying again. I wanted to give my son a sibling. The specialists we saw couldn’t find any reason for the lost babies and I started to think maybe my Creator was telling me that it was just not in the plan. The doctors suggested I try again. I prayed to God and asked for a miracle. Another positive pregnancy test. I made a deal with God that if this embryo did not survive, I would accept that God’s plan for my life was to just have one child and I would not try again. My next ultrasound confirmed the pregnancy, yet the visit several weeks later presented us with potentially devastating news. They saw a blood clot right by the embryo and there was a high possibility that I would miscarry. I spent the next week on bed rest, and in prayer. My prayers were about to be answered one way or another, and I wanted to have the strength to handle the outcome. By the next ultrasound the clot had disappeared. There was no trace of it. The ultrasound technician was dumbfounded; the doctor said it was a miracle and I couldn’t hold back the tears.

As soon as I got home, I looked up names for the little baby girl growing in my womb. I had already chosen her middle name, but I searched for a name by meaning. I wasn’t sure what name it would return, but I knew what I wanted her name to mean. My eye was drawn to the name Janai (Jah-nay). Janai means “God has answered”. I surrendered and accepted and held strongly to my faith. Absolutely God had answered. Not my prayer for a boy, but I was rewarded for my faith. My God!

I am writing this so that when she’s spending way too much time in the shower, or dating some boy I don’t approve of, or just plain giving me more grey hairs, I will read this again, take a deep breath, hold her in my arms and as I did the morning she was born, cherish the beautiful gift I was given when God answered. I hope it works!

Happy Fifth Birthday “sweet cheeks”!

Love, Mommy

March 22, 2012 3