People were active and about last night, crowds in the stores doing last minute shopping for Christmas dinner, Christmas presents, and whatever else.
It was cold and windy out, but I braved through the brutal temperatures to pick up extra food and toiletries to cover me for the weekend.
As children and even adults our parents want us to be happy. They always want the best for us.
Christmas used to be a fun, engaging time.
Back in the day the event was magnetically festive and energetic- exhibiting the true nature or spirit of what Christmas inhabited.
Many adults love to anticipate the receiving of gifts, but it is the children which served the ultimate excitement and joy.
Christmas never went by when I did not receive presents under the tree as a kid.
Despite the fact, my mother acknowledged there may come a time during Christmas when she may not be able to get me anything due to possible unpredictable events.
The day did come once, however, I was old enough where it did not matter.
We had a home that was secure, our bills were paid, we had food to eat, we had love around us, we had good health, we had God watching over us and our family members, and we had a long future to look forward to- those were the greatest gifts of all.
So, even though my mother enjoyed wrapping Christmas presents to surprise me the best presents came unwrapped, already out in the open to never be a lack thereof.
Of course, a bath or a shower is soothing, relaxing, rejuvenating, refreshing and therapeutic.
I loved taking bubble-baths as a child. Back then in the early 80’s there was a popular bath product called Calgon with the television commercial slogan “Calgon take me away”.
I was one in my youth who sat back- even playful- in a hot tub full of foamy bubbles having a good time in the water!
Everyone should take the time out to pamper themselves alone in private, undisturbed in the quiet of the moment, or with calming/easy listening music.
I use to watch television while in the tub during childhood.
My mother sat a small size black and white TV inside the bathroom from time to time to keep us entertained as we took our separate baths.
I have such fond childhood memories.
I am not one who loves easily. If I love someone they definitely have to be worth it- latoya lawrence
Love is beautiful.
I had a lot of love in my life growing up, true unconditional love.
Real love never dies.
There is strength and confidence within love.
Love cannot be bought or sold. The price of love is invaluable, immeasurable, and worth more than what anyone could ever be able to afford.
So precious is this life-giving emotion, so wonderful is its essence.
Fortunate is those who have loved, and who know the genuine meaning of love.
My mother and I had a very close relationship.
She could share almost anything with me and I could share just about everything with her.
One thing she revealed to me years ago when I was a teen or in my early twenties is that she never had sex while she was pregnant with me.
My mother said anything like that was out of the question. She explained her feelings and reasons why. None of which had to do with religion or anything of that nature.
I felt my mother gave me the “ultimate respect” within the womb.
I even feel the exact same way for personal reasons of my own.
If I was sexually active and got pregnant, I would not let a man touch me either.
I am in no way judging or criticizing women who do have sex while they are pregnant.
It is purely a natural preference, a trait within our own distinction my mother and I had.
I know there are definitely other females out there in the world who are similar.
We are a people of all kinds, and uniqueness.
I had a nice and quiet enjoyable evening yesterday. Full of peace and comfort.
I stopped personally-in my heart-celebrating Thanksgiving years ago (just like all the repetitive holidays), it’s just another day to me.
Nevertheless, I fixed and served sliced turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy along with string beans and diced carrots.
I didn’t eat any turkey or mashed potatoes.
I ate a purely vegan meal last night. When I eat mashed potatoes for myself I cook and eat them without the use of any animal fats or ingredients.
I come from a very large family and in the summer of 1983 some relatives from down in my grandmother’s (my mother’s mother) hometown state of Virginia came up to New York to visit us for a week.
It was one of my grandmother’s sisters, her niece, her niece’s husband, and their two sons.
The youngest son was three years of age and looked to be about one hundred pounds. The little boy was so heavy that he had to crawl backwards just to make it down from the staircase.
His mother had brought along for their vacation his packed items of unhealthy snacks which were four cans of corn chips, cheese balls, and some other junk food.
What happened to the old hearty home cooked nourishing meals the family use to constantly prepare, serve, and feed off to the rest of the family?
I guess my grandmother’s niece hadn’t picked up on the tradition of her own mother’s household from years back.
Nevertheless, why let your kid get fat off of a bunch of unhealthy junk food? Shouldn’t she have been feeding him meat and vegetables and feeding him junk snacks sparingly if it was necessary at all for his young age?
I was about eight years old at the time and the three year old boy who was my second cousin cried at the time because I had eaten some dinner that was made for everyone. The child was so spoiled from constantly being fed all kinds of shit by his mother that he wanted to eat up everything there in sight.
My mother nicknamed him butterball.
It wasn’t until I got older and was strolling through the aisle in the supermarket that I realized she was referring him to the likes of a Butterball Turkey.
The mother of this young child was one of my mother’s first cousins, and to me, this kind of behavior was a form of child neglect and abuse. This kid who actually appeared to be one hundred pounds had no business getting to be that size for three years of age.
He was too big and had gained too much weight from eating too much of the wrong things.
My mother had to send her relatives home sooner than the week that was planned for them to stay at our home. The boy was causing too many problems as he whined from walking down the street.
His weight made him tired, sore, and lazy just from keeping mildly active. When he couldn’t get out of the car that his parents drove his mother asked my mother to pick him up and bring him out of the vehicle.
His mother was also on the heavy side and was a bit too lazy herself to go and lift up her son.
We all had took an outing on the circle liner boat ride in Manhattan and he had a fit about getting his way, and so on.
So my mother sent them all on home packing early one 4am morning.
I come from a family of women that are within all sizes. Some are petite, some are average, and some are heavy.
My relatives are native southerners rooted in Meadville Virginia (Halifax County) and they weren’t ashamed of anything. The women were strong and independent and very hard and good workers. They didn’t get vexed by nonsense and persevered through grave times.
Weight had never been an issue with the women on my mother’s side of the family they weren’t self conscious about anything concerning their bodies. And I relate to them so well within mindset.
Often in general, there is talk among and about many women as well as men who are overweight, plump, or even considered too skinny. I never understood the degree in which some individuals place themselves in as well as others.
I and the particular members of my family would neither desire nor attempt to meet anyone’s criteria of what their appearance should resemble. Approval depends on no one but us and within our own selves and to our own liking. We weren’t the type to seek out acceptance from anyone including the world around us.
I can see if ones weight is a problem due to health matters and ease of comfort and the such but for mere public opinion I don’t see it. If one is happy with oneself that is pounds enough to carry around proudly.
The heavy women in my family were literally beautiful. They kept themselves neat and clean with stern and pleasant attitudes and confidently wore their weight well.
Most of my family and people who I know are meat eaters and I’m fine with that. To each his or her own.
Everyone isn’t cut out to be vegan, vegetarian, or polo pescetarian (one able to eat chicken and seafood through a modified vegetarian diet yet strictly does not eat any form of red meat or pork).
My mother loves her burgers and pork chops!
We come from a family of farmers from down south Halifax, Virginia where my great-grandmother (my mother’s mother’s mother) and her husband and children would produce and sell their own original goods.
Born into a bloodline of hardworking southern cooks who genuinely dolled up and prepared healthy, nutritious, hearty meals that well-fed the entire household put a stamp on what we was accustomed to and till this day there is no exception.
As long as my mother eats healthy I’m happy for her and just make sure to pick out quality choices when I do the grocery shopping.
Just because an item is labelled vegan/vegetarian doesn’t at all mean that it is necessarily good or nutritious.
My mother does love some of my vegan and vegetarian selections though and agrees that their better than the other traditional products in certain areas. And a few have become her favorites!
Authentic Expression: LaToya's Health And Wellness Lifestyle Blog 