Greatest Story Never Told

I've wanted to tell it since it's happened, but for fear of being too transparent to too many people, I haven't.

Granted, I've already opened up quite a bit on this blog and tolerated your judgmental sneers and jabs so far-- But what makes this post most different than any other is that it provides the explanation of why I went krazy in the first place.

So let's go back to 2003. It was my senior year at William and Mary, and I planned to graduate in December, a semester early. I had been blessed with a great internship at Anheuser-Busch, and though it wasn't the line of work for me, I didn't mind the $14 per hour pay. So during summer 2003, I worked, took a few classes, and did a little partying... something I was neeeever good at.

Did I mention I'd also hit rock bottom? I had gone through a nasty break-up and my parents had finally parted ways. Emotionally I was a wreck and ripe for predatory picking. Classes started and within two weeks I discovered that I was *ahem* with child. I made two great choices at that time... to keep my baby and to leave that hot mess of a sperm donor alone.


(I'm leaving out some details here, so if you know the full story hush your mouth. It's not time for all of it to come out yet. If you don't know, then just grin, nod, and carry on.)

In an effort to keep the sharing of dirty laundry to a minimum, let's just say I later found myself in another precarious position. I was in a court... between mom and dad... defending one... never intending to hurt the other... desiring only to tell the truth and watch them part amicably. It didn't go so well.

And just like that the already shaky relationship I had with my father came to a screeching halt.

By October I had made peace with my pregnancy, and even though I spent most of my time bent over the toilet, I had new sense of purpose. I felt like I was working hard for a reason. A new relationship was growing despite the loss of another.

Don't get me wrong... I was upset, but relieved at the same time. I know people think we're supposed to feel a certain way about things, but you feel how you feel. And I felt relieved.

My father was a terrorist of sorts. You just never knew when he was genuinely agreeable or when he was about to take your head of with a fit of rage. I had suffered tremendous emotional trauma, neglect, rejection, and abandonment at his hands... so I gave myself closure and let him leave. He didn't know I was pregnant. I didn't dare tell him that because in that case, I would've been afraid for my life. Seriously. My daddy was crazy. The real crazy... not the kind I spell with a k.

Now imagine the scene in the movie with the violin serenade and changing scenes... Marrying. Teaching. Birthing of second child. Earning MBA. Divorcing. Moving into mom's house. Suffering in mom's house. Moving out of mom's house. Moving into my own place. You get it... Life happened.

While life was happening I did my best to hold on to my faith, but truthfully, faith held on to me. And one night, three months ago, I felt strangely impressed to pray for my parents and my siblings, particularly my father. Let me tell you... I WENT INNN!!! ("Going in" is church vernacular for seeking God's face fervently...) I didn't know what God was doing, but I prayed as He directed.

Shortly thereafter my brother graduated from Campbell University. My mom and I attended the ceremony and off in the distance I saw my father. I didn't let my mom know it, but I missed him. Really I just missed having a father. But I said a quiet prayer. He saw me as he was leaving and greeted me. First time in 8 years.

When mom and I made it back to the car she handed me an envelope. Inside was my brother's graduation invitation. Pointless, right? Well I opened it anyway...

Go grab a tissue right now... No? Suit yourself. I'm not liable if the forthcoming tears short-circuit your electronic device.

...and inside was a letter from my father telling me that he missed me. He left me his phone number and email. I slid my glasses over my eyes, pretended to nap, and cried as discreetly as I could.

It took me some time to contact him, but on Christmas Eve of 2011, I sat down and talked to my father for the first time in 8 years. And for the first time, he met my children. And for the first time, they exchanged hugs, kisses, and Christmas presents. And for the first time since my divorce, I felt secure.

He told me he was proud of me. That I was still the smartest person he knew. That I made the right choice in my former marriage. That my kids were strong, healthy and smart because of what I'd put into them. That he knew I was doing great things in my school and in the world for education. He'd been asking about me and following my accomplishments all along.

He was proud of me. He was sorry that he left me and offered reasons why... But when it comes down to it, those reasons never really matter. I assured him that I was glad to have him back.

We don't talk often, but things are fine. I know how to reach him, and I know he loves me. Only months before I thought he was still angry and had forgotten all about me. I thought my children would never see their six-foot three-inch giant of a grandfather. And since we met again he's sent me gifts for both my birthday and Valentine's Day...

*pardon me while I wipe my face*

I know some churchy person is out there thinking, "Well you believe in God, and you know He's a father to the fatherless." And this is true... He was and still is Father to me. But in His fatherly wisdom, He knew I needed my daddy back.

So the deeper, more relevant truth remains. God loves us soooo much that He causes us to desire the right things in the right time so He can reconcile and provide in order to propel us into the next level.

I saaiiiddd...

God loves us SOOO much that He CAUSES us to desire the RIGHT things in the RIGHT time so He can RECONCILE and PROVIDE in order to PROPEL us into the next level.

Don't believe me? Ok... Psalm 37:4. Read and digest for yourself. I'll blog on that another day.

So what secret desires has God placed in you? Maybe you need someone to come back into your life. Maybe you need to be freed from others. Whatever it is, I pray the hearing of my story has increased your willingness to believe that God is ABLE and WILLING to do what you never thought was possible!


Your less krazy, happier cybersister,

Alana

Parenting Blog #1

After taking some time to think about the CHAOS I've endured at work the past month,  I’ve decided to dedicate this blog to the parents… Yep, ALL THE PARENTS! This is for the good ones who delight in their children and over-invest themselves at times and the bad ones who just leave the child-rearing to the television until all hell breaks loose and everyone else is to blame...

I’m a young parent, and perhaps you've done this longer and better than I have… but, as you probably guessed, I will speak on it anyway. One thing is certain. Parents aren’t teaching respect, kindness, and honesty to their children nor do they observe it in their own lives... and half of teaching is being the example.

If you noticed, I titled this "Parenting Blog #1" which means there will be more to follow... but for now here are a few guidelines I try to observe when raising my own children and when nurturing my students:

1. Kids come first, but only some of the time. You do realize that one day they’re going to get up and leave you, right? That’s what they’re supposed to do! So you can’t pour ALL of yourself into them. Of course small children need much more attention, but even they can learn to sit still and talk to God quietly for a few minutes so you can have a few moments of peace. (SB: Yes, God really comes first. And if you're married, your hubby should be second... yep, he comes before the kiddos even if he acts like one of them. After all, you picked him.)
2. You know your child best. You carried them, you watched them grow, and over time you were able to identify their gifts and challenges. Play to their strengths and teach them how to overcome their challenges. Perfection is NOT the objective, but excellence is key. My daughter loves to use lots of different colors in her artwork, and while I’d never discourage that, I do want her to stay inside the lines. Am I limiting her creativity? Not at all… I’m teaching her that she can be creative within the boundaries that she's given. We're not going to create mess and call it a masterpiece.
3. You don’t know your child half as much as you think you do. If you've ever said "Oh, my child would NEVER do that" chances are your child DID do it and KNEW you wouldn't believe it. As children grow, they become masterful at manipulation and deceit, but we have to make it hard for them to succeed. You can pour all of your self into them, and they could still disappoint. If someone tells you something unpleasant about your child, consider the source and the possibility before becoming defensive.
4. Right is right. If your child is right in an ugly situation, defend them.
5. Wrong is wrong. If your child is wrong in an ugly situation, defend them, then discipline them. The "hell-naw-you're-not-about-to-embarrass-me-like-that" speech is always a good one.
6. Divide and conquer. Most situations aren't black and white. Usually there's a mixture of feelings, perceptions, and miscommunications involved, BUT it's our job to help our children sort it all out. Children don't have all the skills they need to make the right decision every time, but they need to learn them. Start with respect and kindness because they are always RIGHT. 
7. Life is not a Disney movie. It is my firm belief that Disney screws us all up and makes us think we can do and be anything we want. While that sounds nice and gives us warm fuzzies, I don't want a doctor who can't do basic math... and let's face it, not all of us are good at math. While I enjoy Finding Nemo and Tinkerbell as much as the next mommy (*sarcasm here*), I need to steer my kids in the direction where they are gifted. Most children have many interests, but are only good at a handful of things. Wherever you find their talents and giftings is where your child will be most confident, and confidence brings success.
8. The other parent can do the job, too. Moms can be so critical of dads. I know I am at times... but when I disagree with something my childrens' father has done, I talk bad about him to God, then he and I discuss it. (...nasty IM ensuing...) In many ways neither one of us is right or wrong. Just a few days ago, he called to tell me that the five-year old had to write sentences for talking in class. I could hear her sobbing in the background because I had warned her that she would be punished if it happened again. Since it was his weekend, I thanked him for calling and asked him to tell her that I wasn't mad. Then I told him I felt it would be best that he handle the situation since she was with him. What a big step for me! Normally, I'd threaten to tighten up her behind when she came back home two days later... but what good would that really do? I would forget, she wouldn't, and then I'd be a pushover. (Note: It's better to be the bad guy than a pushover.)
9. Your child is you. You ever look at your kids and wonder if you were as goofy, silly, and obnoxious as they are? The answer is YES! Go ask your parents! My son, at seven, has the same exact fears I had at seven. Briana gets in trouble for talking just like her dad did. It's undeniable, so be understanding. Consider what your parents did to raise you, and apply it if it worked. Dismiss it if it didn't.
10. Be creative, patient, and affectionate in your child-rearing. What more is there to say?

My one little blog won't change every parents' approach to raising kids, but I hope that you will at least, being the perfect parent that you are, pass this on to someone else who is less gifted than you. (I will be soooo ticked if someone sends this to me.)

After all, those of us who are a little touched, i.e. krazy, need a little help from time to time.

Your cybersister,

Alana

Other Side of the Game

"Don't worry, baby. I know there's confusion. God's gonna see us through yeah..."

I love the tune and the soulful crooning of a lovedrunk Badu, but when I break down the lyrics (i.e. overanalyze), I wonder why so many of us women end up on the other side of an ugly game. I know she's talking about the drug game in the song, but I'm using my blogtistic license here.

It's an epidemic. Woman meets man. Man turns on game. Woman falls for game. Man reveals that he's playing and blames woman for falling because she should've known better. Woman sticks around dissatisfied, disgruntled, and disillusioned hoping for the impossible. Yeah, I know women run game too, so guys, apply accordingly.

So, ladies & gents, where do we go wrong when we meet a potential love? I could write ten steps to choosing the wrong person to love, which I'm TOTALLY qualified to do... Or I could just let Badu do the talking.

"It ain't that he don't have education cuz I was right there at his graduation."

So, he's got an education? He gets some respect for that. He works hard? That's even better! But is he demonstrating what he's learned at whatever level of education he's attained? Potential is never good enough. Don't get me wrong. I'm not one of those educated snobs who only talks to men with the degree qualifications that meet or exceed my own. I tend to find many highly-educated men... well, boring. But nothing's worse than a flirty brother with poor spelling, poor grammar and a lot to say. We all get those messages on Facebook that are hard to decipher. "You used to look good in high school but now you still do too." Yeah, that's in my inbox. I have yet to reply.

"But it's me and baby that he hurts."

So he loves you so much that he keeps doing what hurts you and hurts the kids too? Let me guess. He's either doing it for you or he can't help it. Badu needs to read "The Doormat People." She's an accessory to her own victimization, and the children will only resent her later.

"Because I tell him right, he thinks I'm wrong. But our love is strong."

Sorry, Badu. Even the good ones don't want to know when they're wrong. That's just the nature of a man. Even my six-year old son has to always be right. If he puts his underwear on backwards, he'll argue with me even though he can't find a way to pee straight. But there is a way to let a man know when things are starting to sour... that's another blog for another day.

"Gave me the life that I came to live."

What the heck? No, he didn't. JESUS did that! Get your priorities straight...

"Pressure's on me, but the seed is grown. I can't make it on my own."

A real man will always take the pressure OFF, and he'll never take your power away by planting seeds of insecurity. God gave man authority, but the woman has power. Wield it wisely, ladies. Never give away what God has given you!

Let's backtrack to when Erykah first met this fella. At some point she knew that he had some other stuff going on and decided  to roll the dice anyway.  Why would anyone ignore the obvious signs? Well, loneliness can get the best of us. But one thing is certain; desperation landed our beloved Badu in another bad relationship. (And when I say Badu, I mean krazy me and maybe krazy you too...) Not too long thereafter, she's telling her boo that he needs to call Tyrone...

So how do we keep ourselves on the other side of the game? If we want love, do we have to play along? I will admit I've gone out with people that I didn't really like for boredom's sake. One guy (who's reading from his iPad) posted on Facebook that a certain woman (me) was making him rethink his game. Just that admission has disqualified him from having a chance at spending anymore time with me. (Angry text ensuing...)

I've discovered a few tactics to maintaining a "game-free" life. So here goes. If you meet someone and think you might be interested...

1. Listen for what he wants. I like to know what a man ultimately wants from a relationship. Some day (not any time soon), I'd like to be married again. If he never wants to be married, then we don't have the same aspiration, and I'll end up wasting my time if I continue with him. People tend to be more honest early on because the stakes are low. Believe a person when they tell you or show you who they are.
2. Listen for how he wants it. You want to know what his religious and moral beliefs are, but other convictions matter too. Life perspective is a HUGE consideration for me. For example, I subscribe to the "Life is short, so do it right the first time" way of living. I can't be with someone who subscribes to the "Life is short, so live it up at all costs" way of living. Judgments aside, it just doesn't work.
3. Listen to how much he's saying. Does he talk too much? One of my associates talks so much that he just bores me to tears. He's a sweet guy, but boring! Does he talk too little? Ummm... did you call me so I could listen to you watch the basketball game? I have better things to do... like talk to myself. Does he do a disappearing act and a random check-up to make sure you don't forget him? Play along for fun, but don't get sucked in... LOL!
4. Listen to what he's NOT saying. Recently a fella asked me what I'd heard about him because I didn't seem to be interested. My response: "What have you done that you don't want me to know about?" Oh... and there's the guy who has options. What he's not saying is that if I don't give him what he wants, he can get it elsewhere. My response: "Use your options. Not me..."
5. Listen! That means be quiet!  Smile outside and scream inside. Think critically, but don't breathe a word of it. Instead, ask a follow-up question. And don't tell him too much about your personal convictions up front. Guys with weak game always play the "me too" game. If I say that I'm a Christian, he says "Oh yeah? Me too!"

With all of that said, there is hope for those us want the real thing. There's no need to settle for a silly player and then ask God to bless our mess. Eventually Badu had to put Tyrone out, but only after suffering more damage than any person should sustain.

I won't say that my transition to this point was quick or even easy. I won't even say that where I am now is all that much fun. It's been a while since I've been on a date that I've truly enjoyed. But what I can say is that I'm not lonely, and I enjoy possessing my soul. And when the time comes for my future husband to enter my life, I will be ready because I kept myself on the other side of very dirty and damaging game.

For those of you struggling, my heart goes out to you... Here's some encouragement from a more positive and empowering song.

I'm coming out of krazy and taking all the broken-hearted Badus with me...

Your cyber-sister,

Alana



Definition of Exceptional

All my life I've wanted to be exceptional. I've strived for perfection and excellence in almost every area since I was a small child. In grade school, I only earned A's. In college, I relished in the fact that I attended one of the top universities in the nation and chose a difficult major. I joined the top sorority, maintained a decent GPA, graduated a semester early, married shortly thereafter, had two beautiful children, earned a Master's degree while working full-time, and divorced my husband with every bit of dignity I could muster. Even now, as a teacher, I push myself and my students to the limit just to demonstrate that I can do anything short of impossible... not on my own, of course. But with the right help, I most certainly can do it!

Unfortunately, I've had this type of zeal in every area of my life... and yes, I do mean unfortunately. I really thought I could do anything until last April when I faced THE most difficult challenge of my life. I shall not blog about it tonight, but I'll sum it up by saying that my relationship history is ugly. I mean it's just short of whatever word might be illustrated by a hopeless pit of embarrassment, despair, and bad decision-making. Again, I tried to be exceptional... as in, better than the next woman... as in, I didn't have to play by the rules to get what or who I wanted. If I was better than the one before me, then why couldn't I do what (and by what I mean who) I chose?

In retrospect I've had two totally different approaches to becoming what I thought was exceptional. Academically, I played by the rules. I applied myself, studied hard, tested well... did what I was required to do and more. With the fellas, I made my own rules. I figured eventually the very next one would be the one that would truly love me forever and ever... because really, that's what they all say. And why wouldn't they have loved me? I'm smart, cute, and I cook! What more does a man really need? (Note: I am NOT male-bashing here.)

On my forty-minute commute to work one morning I decided that being exceptional has nothing to do with seeking exceptions. Think about it. Everybody knows that individual who is always looking for a way out. There's the obnoxious family member that thinks the rules don't apply. What about the co-worker that expects everyone to come to the rescue when their imminent demise actually does catch up to their foolishness? Picturing anyone yet?

Well, I saw myself. I had no one else to blame for my poor decisions but me. I knew the rules. I had been taught all of the "Thou shalt not's" and witnessed the result in others just as hard-headed as I was. Yet, because I thought I was exceptional...

So what makes a person truly exceptional? For me, now, being exceptional is understanding the rules and guidelines set before me. If I want to be great, then I can work my magic within the framework and, against all odds, come out on top. When a situation is absolutely impossible, I pray. Honestly, I pray anyway.

What peace of mind I've gained in realizing that I'm just not that great! I'm not perfect, and I don't have to be. And really, life isn't about me. And rules, they're just in place to guide me down life's little paths of impossibilities. As a child, it was right of me to want to be the best. As an adult, it's best of me to do what's right.

I'm coming out of krazy, ya'll. Join me on the ride.

Always,

Alana