family

All posts tagged family

Simple Church

Published November 15, 2017 by lynn k scott

Our church is rebranding.  This is new for me, because growing up, we went to the same church my entire life and it never changed.  I even was married in that church.  With the rebranding, we are establishing ourself apart from another church that we have been getting confused with.  I think it’s a great idea.  Without change, there cannot be growth.  I am from a small country town.  Even though I moved to a city, I still like my church small, but we all have room for growth.

God’s message is simple.

Simple

After years of searching for my “home church”, I have found it.  I’ve been at Simple Church for about six months now.  In that time, besides being allowed to drink all the coffee I could want, I have met people who are becoming like family.  I’ve even been asked to help with providing refreshments for fellowship after church.  This was a blessing, because I enjoy cooking and feeding others and providing a snack or meal, appeases that particular need.

Having moved 3,000 miles from where I used to call home, restarted my life, remarried, had another child, gone through some really difficult trials and now battling cancer, knowing there is a place, where I am accepted in my jeans, my tattoos and all my other short-comings, brings a sense of peace.

Every week, the message comes from the Bible. It’s straight-forward; can’t get any simpler than that.  Prayers, contemporary music and singing fills the room as well.  There’s a song, “Old Church Choir“, by Zach Williams that sums up my feelings.

If you’ve ever been to a church with a choir, you know they can project a lively happiness with an upbeat tempos and their voices.  You are drawn in, want to be part of and appreciate the energy they are providing.  Memories are created through the music.

Stepping into Simple Church gives me that feeling every week!  Even when I was brand new to the church, I was welcomed.  It just wasn’t an obligatory, “hello” by someone assigned to meet the ‘new people’.  It was a genuine welcoming and caring that you were there.

It’s a church where I feel comfortable bringing my daughter.  Having a tween child brings it’s own challenges.  Knowing she is making friends, likes the children and their parents and wants to go instead of fighting me not to, says a lot too.Simple church

If there are little ones to consider, there’s a nursery for them to play and relax in during the service.

All in all, if you are looking for a small, community-based church, that offers genuine caring and compassion, with what I like to call a ‘come as you are’ mentality, then Simple Church might be the place for you.

If you are in the Solano County area, come check out 10:00 a.m. service.  We’d love to meet you!

Advertisements

Homeschooling: Life Skills

Published October 12, 2017 by lynn k scott

This year, our homeschooling journey has landed in the 6th grade.  In addition to my daughter learning how to take detailed notes, beginning to independent research, math, grammar, science, etc., she participates in Life Skills.

If we were in a brick and mortar school, the skills she is learning might be classified as home economics.  However, it’s more than just that.  She is learning to make grocery shopping lists, assisting with pet care, cooking for herself as well as her family, doing laundry, etc.

In our home, my husband doesn’t cook.  It’s a fact; he doesn’t know how.  I, on the other hand, have a catering and hospitality background, so I am passing my cooking and baking knowledge to her.chicken adobo

Since school began in August, she has learned to and can make grilled cheese, fried hot dogs, fried eggs, chicken adobo with rice and ramen.  She has been exposed to making pot roast, pan-seared pork chops (finished in the oven) and baked chicken and chicken wings.

rice

Now, to be be fair, the chicken adobo and rice shown are actually for a church event, but it’s the same food she proudly makes for her family ever week now.  She won’t even let me make it any more and gives ME tips on what I should be doing in the kitchen.  If she only knew, I’ve been at this about 30+ years longer than her.  It’s a cute sentiment though.

In addition on learning important cooking skills, when she has to follow a recipe and using measuring cups and/or spoons, she is reinforcing her fractions.

Lastly, spending time in the kitchen will create memories that one day, she will remember as she stands in her kitchen, showing her children, what I taught her.  Life skills….so important….not just in a technical sense.

Diagnosis: The Big “C”

Published October 12, 2017 by lynn k scott

My blogging isn’t up to par as I have slacked off considerably with making sure I post at least once a day.

I grew tired of primary care physicians passing the buck, their staff refusing to schedule appointments (while in severe pain) because I wasn’t ‘nice enough’, being ignored when discussing symptoms or just regurgitating a previous ailment.  I took myself to the emergency room (at an expensive cost; considering my copay).

Well, I was right!  There was something wrong; seriously wrong.  When all the testing was said and done…a mass about five inches long, blocking 80% of my colon was discovered.  Major surgery was in my immediate future.

After a scheduling fiasco with the hospital, the surgery was finally completed.  The mass sent to pathology for testing.  A week later, the report was in:  Stage 3 colon cancer.  I had managed to convince myself the mass would be benign.  I recovered so quickly from surgery.  All was well again…silly me…I knew better than that!

Let’s recap (if you don’t follow my blog)….

  • Father:  Stomach cancer – Stage 4 (passes within 3 weeks of diagnosis)
  • Mother:  Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma (beats it – but passes for another reason)
  • Younger Sister:  Breast cancer – Stage 4 (passes within 9 months of diagnosis)

I now have joined the rest of my family.  There are only two of us left, out of the original five members in our immediate family.   Four out of five people in one family being diagnosed with cancer…what are the odds?  Don’t answer that!

If my faith wasn’t so strong, I’d be a complete basket case.  Have I shed a tear or two?  Of course!  You’d have to have a heart cold as ice not to have such a diagnosis elicit some type of emotion when learning you have cancer and stage 3; at that.  Truth be told, this is the calmest I’ve been about a major life event.  I know that’s God’s grace.

I know He has a plan for me.  I wish it didn’t involve this disease.  However, I have many friends and family praying for me.   I have found an amazing church that has been incredible in supporting me.  As it stands, I have a 57% chance, without any further treatment, the cancer is gone.  Treatment will increase those odds, as there isn’t a test to say I still have the cancer.

What hit me hardest?  Telling my older children, who watched their grandparents and aunt pass away, that their mom was now sick.  Then, telling my youngest, who only knew a little of what claimed her aunt, at the tender age of 37, her mom had a similar disease.

Most days I’m good.  Very tired as I am extremely anemic at this point.  Other days, I’m angry.  I’ve dealt with so much already.  I didn’t, “why me?” the issue.  It is what it is.  I am doing my best to stay positive, especially for my youngest; the only child at home.

My perspective has sharpened a bit.  I’ve jotted down some details should the worst case scenario come full circle.  Not being a stranger to cancer and what it can ultimately do, I am capable of making decisions that I don’t want to leave to family.  It’s unfair to make them have to make decisions on my behalf.

I will go through the motions.  I’ll probably be in debt trying to pay for medications, increased insurance premiums and everything else that goes with having to say, “I have cancer”.

I will not be pitied.  I will accept prayers, visits, bonding with family and friends and knowing making memories is extra special now.  I am also continuing to work on the Kathi Cares Program, which supports local cancer warriors.

ribbon

 

 

 

 

Take a Moment; Make a Memory

Published July 12, 2017 by lynn k scott

I found myself, on two separate occasions, talking about memories.  The first time I mentioned memories was on a Facebook link that was in response to a woman who said she was glad women had evolved and didn’t do things like grind their own meat or coffee, can food, prepare homemade meals, etc.

I was mildly offended by that.  While I was born in the early 70s, I take great pride in working a full time job, coming home to cook a homemade dinner (six to seven nights a week), and sitting at the table, with my family, to enjoy it.

I still hang clothes out on the line and I can a lot of different foods throughout the year. To me, I am making memories with my daughter.  Years from now, she will see a jar of preserves and think of my “armageddon shelf” that was always stocked with a variety of jams, soups, stock and vegetables.

Tonight, I was speaking with my Pastor and I used that exact example.  It got me to thinking, “that’s a blog post”.  All to often, especially in today’s society, it’s a “now” or “me” mindset.  While I am guilty of having the same thought pattern on occasion, I don’t seem to do it as often as some people.

It takes hours to make bread from scratch.  I enjoy mixing some flour, yeast and water and getting bread when all is said and done.  I teach my daughter how to measure, mix and make food from ingredients instead of a box.

She and I will go for a walk in a local park.  We might stop and watch the dogs play in the dog park.  We will hunt for pinecones for crafting projects.  Finding a bench and listening to the birds’ melodies as they communicate with each other.

So, I encourage you to spend quality time with those who matter most.  It doesn’t have to cost you anything.  Go to the beach, sit on the sand together and watch the waves crash against the shoreline.  Spend time in the kitchen making culinary creations.  Go to sporting events.  Rock your child in chair.  Go the library and cultivate a love for reading.

When I am finally called Home, I want my family to have memories that will make them smile when they think of me.  That they will feel the love I had for them, when I can no longer physically wrap my arms around them to offer comfort.  Now is the time to take a moment and make a memory.

Will You Remember Me?

Published June 27, 2017 by lynn k scott

Tomorrow will mark 10 years since my father passed away.  In the last two weeks, I have remembered the loss of my sister and mother.  I have lost three family members; all in the month of June.  All by the time I was 41 years old.

Mortality is in the forefront of my mind. It’s hard to ignore it.  All three of them had cancer, two were defeated by it and one passed, due to illness complications.  So, yes, wondering if I will meet an early demise, in June (no less), brings up lots of questions.

I didn’t have the best relationship with my father, but my sister’s and mother’s deaths hit me hard and their angelversaries elicit uncontrollable emotions.  There are specific things that I remember about each of them.

Remembering Dad:

  • Cook
  • Hot-tempered
  • Alcoholic
  • Recovering Alcoholic
  • Sports fan (Mets/Giants)
  • Friend to Chuck
  • Unable to show love to his family

Remembering Mom:

  • Faithful
  • Hard Worker
  • Loyal
  • Dedicated
  • Friend
  • Compassionate
  • Horrible Cook
  • Family-oriented

Remembering Sis:

  • Stubborn
  • Opinionated
  • Argumentative
  • Loyal friend
  • Loved the outdoors
  • Gardener
  • Dedicated mother
  • Straight-forward
  • Couldn’t cook rice (LOL to the family)

Gets me to thinking how, or even if, my children will remember me.  There’s history that hasn’t been discussed on this blog.  My youngest child will be the affected the most.  I can’t say the other children will be that upset or even care.  It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but I am not ignorant to my reality either.

What will my friends think of me?  Will I have a large attendance at my funeral? Probably not.  I can’t see that.  I’ve done a lot of personal reflection.  I am planning the details of my funeral.  I never want to have to put someone through that.

Death is inevitable.  I choose not to fear it.  I believe God has chosen my path.  It certainly hasn’t been an easy road to follow, but I will continue on it until I am called home.

 

Breaking the Cycle is Painful

Published April 3, 2017 by lynn k scott

As a survivor of domestic violence, the effects can continue years later after the abusive relationship has ended; especially, if children are involved.  This recounting may seem a bit rushed, however, it would turn into a book if I added the overwhelming details of the hell that was my life.

I am struggling, almost 20 years later, to quell the ghosts of my past and break the cycle of abuse.  I have four children from a previous marriage and I rarely speak of them, with the exception of the oldest, because I’ve been kept from them.  Their father has basically convinced them I decided not to be a mother any more and that’s why I left.  As if!

I spent six long years in a very abusive and escalating marriage.  I married young, had low self-esteem and had four children in six years.  I was verbally, financially, mentally and physically abused.

I actually didn’t realize I was a battered wife, until I took a college psychology course and we covered domestic violence and “The Cycle”.  I was learning about my life.  It was mind-numbing at the time.  My life could have been a case study in my psych book.  Talk about mind-blown!

I was typically cut off from friends and had little contact with my family.  I had no money of my own and had to ask permission to buy anything.  I couldn’t go out alone, without permission and needed to be home when expected or I would be in trouble.  Even certain songs, such as Wilson Phillips, “Hold On” or Ace of Base, “The Sign”, were off limits. Walking on egg shells was my life.  I tried to be perfect so I wouldn’t get in trouble. Such a fallacy in that train of thought.

Pretty stupid…didn’t even know I was being abused.  I thought it was normal for the husband to get mad at his wife for not cleaning the house at 8-months’ pregnant.  After all, if I hadn’t been so lazy, I would have had dinner ready for him after working so hard all day.  When he lost jobs, it was because I had bugged him at work. I deserved the screaming, beratement, bruises, slaps, and hair pulling.  I believed him when he said he was sorry for throwing a baby rattle at my thigh so hard it swelled around the impact site (just one of many examples).

Years later, I did journal about my existence and the horror story I was living. I was good at keeping this horrific secret.  The only way my family found out was because we had stayed with them briefly and I forgot to take my notebook out from under the mattress.  I learned to hide my journaling because it made my ex-husband angry to see in writing what he was doing to me.

Over the years the violence increased.  We tried marriage counseling.  That led to separate counseling sessions.  In turn, it led to the doctor telling me to keep a bagged packed at all times, because my ex-husband was a ticking time-bomb.  He told me I was in danger.  Funny how the mind tricks us into thinking we can handle certain situations. Even after he attempted to smother me, twice, I stayed.  He denies that fact, but it did happen.

Can I remember everything that happened to me?  No.  Why?  I was diagnosed with Battered Women’s Syndrome when I was hospitalized for depression.  To this day, almost twenty years later, I believe my ex-husband to be a mortal threat to me.  So many memories are gone.  I remember bits and pieces.  I hardly any happy times even though I know there were some. I’ve even forgotten some of the precious memories I had of when my children were small.

I do remember one Christmas Eve that my mom called.  She called to tell me my ex-husband had been arrested for attempted murder.  He had beaten a woman he knew, in the face, with a BRICK!  What started it?  She owed him $50.00.  WOW!  That was worth disfiguring her, a long recovery and incompetent police work that led to a whopping “E” felony (the lowest felony charge).

Ironically, I remembering being happy.  For the first time, I felt safe and I was already 3,000 miles away from him.  Oh, I didn’t mention that, did I?

Through a serious of what can only be described as a family court circus, my ex-husband gained custody of our children.  Back then, police reports covered nothing.  I was “mistaken” about the abuse.  “He wouldn’t do that”, an officer had told me regarding my unlawful imprisonment (in my own home).  After all, I had been in the ‘psycho ward’ at one point.  I wasn’t reliable to know what I was suffering at his hands. The police were good about discussing my hospitalization in hushed tones.  They ate up every word of his charismatic lies.

The time came, many years later, when I left under the cover of darkness; before the morning sun came up.  My mom was with me at Greyhound.  She was the only person who knew I was leaving the state; headed for California.  At least California took a stance on domestic violence.  New York didn’t even have stalking laws back then.  Lucky for him; bad for me.  It was legal to terrorize someone and those who did it; knew it!

Fast forward several years.  I learned to be independent.  Learned I could have a healthy relationship and I didn’t need to be beaten or abused to be “kept in line”.  Learned I didn’t need to have permission to go have a drink with my coworkers.  That took years of asking my then boyfriend (now husband), if “it was ok”.  It took constant reminders from him saying, “you don’t need to ask my permission”.

I eventually remarried and had my fifth child; his first.  I needed to prove to myself I was not a horrible mother.  I needed to know I could take care of a baby; that I wasn’t worthless as a woman.  That there was a man out there who wanted me; damaged as I was, with four children.

I hid my youngest daughter’s birth from my other children; after they started speaking to me again.  They were living with my mom because my abusive ex-husband followed me to California; luckily he went South and I was up North.

I was afraid the kids wouldn’t understand about their half-sister.  When they found out, they didn’t.  I started a new family without them.  I couldn’t disagree.  I didn’t set out to. Over the years, my oldest son, was the only one to really engage me.  My other children were awarded back to my ex after he was released from prison.  He had rights after all. Who cares a psychiatrist said my oldest daughter, who was my spitting image, was in danger of being abused because she looked like me.  The courts sure didn’t.  Way to go there law guardian.  I think he forgot he was assigned to look out for the welfare of the children…I digress…

The court was the only blinded fools who could not see my ex-husband gained custody to make me pay support.  The kids never saw the money.  Never saw the hell he put me through.  Never saw me struggle to eat with unrealistic support payments. New York makes the non-custodial parent pay til the children are 21.  That finally ends this year. However, the on-going circus that is family court, is a punitive place.  There is no justice for the children.  There is only name-blaming and punitive-ordered support.  It would have been an undue burden to prove my youngest son was still in school.  He quit and has been working for over a year.  Oh, he’s getting married too.  That will disqualify my ex from support.  My other son moved out, which would have done away with that support, except my ex-husband failed to legally report it to the court; and of course, no repercussions there.  Let’s not talk about the $3,000.00 in braces I am paying for that were never put on my daughter.  Family court…the biggest joke in the free world!

Another time hop to the present where my oldest child is about to be a father any day now.  Sadly, he believes I am not entitled to be alerted before the rest of Facebook.  I apparently, have some misconstrued entitlement issues, simply because I’m his mother. Insert where I didn’t get to speak to him for 10 years and hid the fact he had a sister. Where because of my status, as his mother, I’m not facing the hard truth about my past. He insists on “keeping it real” for me.

His reality has never seen me sink to the floor in the closet, while trying to get to work, questioning what I could have possibly done to be treated so horribly.  Question why my ex was allowed to go unpunished for all his misconceptions.  I know he committed disability fraud, but proving it was another story.  No one wants to stand up to him.  He is the perfect abuser and loves his “authority”.

I honestly had thought my son and I were beyond this.  He retains his passive-aggressive nature and he is verbally and mentally abusive to me.  He cannot see he treats me the same way his father did.  He has never hit me, but he prefers to cut me with words and will wait for them to heal before he begins again.  While I love all of my children, with all of my heart, I will not allow the cycle to continue!

I have set boundaries.  I am of worth.  I am entitled to respect.  It’s hard when you need to force that lesson upon your child(ren).  We should be celebrating a very exciting chapter in his life.  Yet, he chooses to “allow” me crumbs of his existence and I am not a charity case. He has no idea the true trauma I have experienced.  He has no idea how many memories I have lost due to abuse.  He has no idea what I have gone through.  If he feels he is entitled to judge my actions, I pray he never has to make life-altering decisions where his family is concerned.  You see, had I not boarded that bus all those years ago, his anger wouldn’t be aimed at me.  He sorrow would be visible as he shared his life achievements at my grave.

Please help break the cycle.  Share this story.  Share your story.  Silence is the enemy.

 

Golden State Mopars!

Published March 9, 2017 by lynn k scott

challenger

I live in the “Golden State”, better known as California.  While I happen to reside midway between Sacramento and San Francisco, the Golden State Mopars, extend the length of the state.  20170309_150209.jpg

Who are the Golden State Mopars?  Simply put…they are a great group of men and women, who own Mopars and are part of a car club.  If you’ve ever seen this on your door or windshield, or maybe even been handed one it means, “you’ve been carded”.

20170309_112109.jpg

 

Most of the group hangs out on Facebook.  If you’d like to connect to the group, just click the GSM group page.

This was taken from their Facebook “About” section:

Bringing Mopar Enthusiasts Together, Turning Friends Into Family…

Golden State Mopars is a car club for you. We love Challengers, Chargers, 300’s, Magnums, Vipers, old school Mopar Muscle, Trucks, Darts and anything SRT. Stock or highly modified, we like them all… We do cruises, meets, mod days, BBQs and other family friendly events. All we ask is that you are respectful and participate.

20170309_150139.jpg

Facebook limits the invites we can send out to club members, so we can’t send invitations to everyone. However, ALL club members are welcome to any event hosted by Golden State Mopars. Our events are fun, relaxed and family friendly, come have fun and meet new friends.

I’m not a car person and I’m the first to admit it.  I’m the woman at a car show that walks past a car, says, “nice” and moves on.  My husband on the other hand, will get down on his hands and needs to check out the undercarriage, has to see the motor and might engage the owner in a conversation about the car.  Oh boy, when that happens, my eyes roll and look for someplace to buy a drink.  LOL

1489096645290.jpg

That being said, this car club has a lot of “meet-ups”.  If you’re available, you attend the events you’d like to go to; however, it’s not required.  While Mopar cars are the focus of the group and they are what brings everyone together initially, it can definitely be extended to a car family and support system.

1489096800195.jpg

We help each other with car issue recommendations (well, I don’t on those; you really don’t want me to either; trust me).  We celebrate engagements, births of the next generation of Mopar afficiondos, and well as the times that life presents challenges that may be a bit harder to handle.  We get together for car shows, BBQs and pool parties.

All in all, it’s a great car club.  Whether you have a Mopar daily driver, show car, or a “mom” (or “dad”) car, we’d be happy to have you!

1489093183249.jpg

Reclaiming HOPE

Learning to Live Well With Fibromyalgia

Wish to Dish

Celebrating food and all the joy that comes from creating and eating it.

Skipping Stones

Musings of a Mindful Disciple

Fearless

Diagnosis of a Chronic Disease Turned My World Upside Down

XP NUGGETS

Your daily source of positivity, motivation and inspiration: Available for you in a charming consumable nugget!

Fact Based Truth

Truth based on facts

The Recipe Hunter

Cook and Enjoy

The Purple Almond

Where food is medicine.

Wedbites

"The Most Important Part of the Most Important Day of Your Life"

Mommy Usage

Perfectly Imperfect. Always Working Toward Better.

But I Smile Anyway...

Musings and memories, words and wisdom... of a working family woman