To You, Future Me.

There has been quite a bit of baby buzz around me lately. Many a time through my life, in reference to parenting,  I have said things like "I would never..." or "they should...". But wouldn't I? And should they? What real knowledge do I have in raising kids? Next to none. Not being a parent, but a nursery worker, I thought I could write to my future self today in case I forget how I want to raise my kids. I am sure every parent has a set of ideals for themselves so I want to keep a reminder of sorts for myself for when I am sure to forget.

If any parents who are struggling with their own little [fallen] angels find this helpful, horrible, or delightful, then I will pray for you. Seriously, you parents need all the prayer you can get. I know, I have parents, and they need your prayers. I have three siblings....

Anyway, I shall begin.


Hey There Taniya,

So, you thought you were smart, huh? You went and had a kid/kids. You foolish fool. Are you having fun, yet? Oh, I can just see it. Your spawn is kicking you in the grocery store because you won't get him a stupid toy gun or something and his little sister just threw up in your purse (assuming you had more than one kid). Cute. So cute. And as the sweat is dripping down your forehead, and onlookers ogle your harum-scarum brood, you are whispering empty threats into the ear of your stripling. This is where I am going to have to step in. Don't you remember the stifling fear that would creep up your spine and the sinking feeling in your gut that your mother would instill with a mere eyebrow lift? Recall for me, if you will, the eyes filled with terror in the innocent faces of your kin. A look so real, and so genuine, and entirely brought on by the boredom driven mind within you. I am not condoning past behavior, by any means. The traumatizing of your little brother and sister was a bit much, and by law, over the line as the disciplinary means of your children. But let's not throw the baby out with the scum filled bath water. 

Let's take a look at your options. Firstly, you could walk away from the store, leaving your full grocery cart in a random aisle, grab your little hellions, and cry in your debris laden car (some things never change) all the way home. This option is not ideal. Your letting him win, in a way. He won't get what he wants, but neither will you. Then you will have to explain to your husband why your going out for dinner again this month. I am not sure, since I never met him, but I'm guessing this would not make him happy. So now no one is happy. Now, let's take a look at option two. Buy the brat his toy. Seems like a pretty good option, right? He stops crying, people stop staring, your anxiety will start to ebb, you'll go home make dinner and all will be well, right? Wrong. Is that the precedence you want to set with your kids? Give in to every whim just to keep him quiet? Fast forward 10 years and you have a disrespectful punk who tells you how, when, and where your going to serve him. You think you'll be able to tell him no then, but you won't. You'll cave, just like your thinking about doing now. Stay strong! There is another way. The bible gives us wonderful instructions on child rearing;

Proverbs 23:14
"Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell." KJV

Poetry. Pure and unadulterated poetry. So, here's my plan for you. Stand up straight. Make your way to the cash register. Grab a baby wipe out of your sick laden purse and begin to wipe the mess away. Grab your kicking kid gently (you are in public), pay for your groceries and get home. Discipline should be rendered lovingly, remember. Also, make absolute certain that your young'un knows why he is receiving his timely punishment. No doubt you will feel bad, but so will he. You will both move on and be better for it. I'm sure of that. Now, suck up those tears. You are going to be fine. 

Love Me (you, but younger, and without kids)

P.S. Maybe wait a little longer before adding a third to the tribe, huh? 

It's Just a Donut!!!

So, there I was, staring at a pink box of doom. Unaware of my coworkers odd glances my way, I stared that pink box down until my eyes hurt. I turned quickly, accusatory. My eyes spoke "Which of you brought this wickedness upon the office?".

They looked at me like I was crazy and walked away. From the back of the office I heard a faint "Taniya, There's donuts today". Disheartened I slunk over to my desk. I turned my computer on. The flashing light on my phone indicated that I had, like, a billion voice mails, I leaned back pensively. I decided to grab a cup of coffee, I really needed it. "I won't even open the box" I thought to myself as I grabbed the creamer from the fridge. "I won't even look in that direction!" I leaned to grab a straw and that's when I saw it. An Old Fashioned. A Chocolate Old Fashioned. The best donut ever invented was sitting right on top, even though everyone else had already grabbed one. How can this be? Since when are there donuts this early in the week? And since when is there a chocolate old fashioned still there at 9:00AM?!?!

It's simple really. There is only one reason for this anomaly.

Today is a fast.

I am only half kidding with this story because it is a reality. An ugly one. And, let's be honest, donuts are basically deep fried evil. Even under normal circumstances they should be discarded without hesitation. But they're so good...

Note: I began writing this blog a while ago, when I was fasting, but I guess I didn't have the strength to avoid donuts AND write about them. I also did not eat a donut. I know you were thinking I did, but I did not. Also, I write in italics when I'm telling a story, or interrupting myself. I leave that to your discernment. Either way, this was sitting in my drafts and I felt it needed to be finished.

Get this, I once read a quote from some rock star guy referring to our temptations as our true desires, and if that's the case then how can they be wrong (I am paraphrasing here.). He went on to say that he overcame his temptations by is own will power. Wait, what? Didn't he just say....

This idea is obviously a contradiction to itself. Now, I think this guy had it partly right. It wouldn't be a temptation if we didn't want it, but does that make it right? We know the story of fatal attraction all too well. I used donuts as an example and those are bad enough, but there are worse things we can do. Exercising will power when it comes to donuts is one thing, but I need much more than will power to say no to the desires of my flesh. If we are all honest with ourselves, we all do."For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life" Galatians 6:8 (NKJV).

What are we sowing in us, Corruption? Or everlasting life? Yes, we have a flesh that wants the unholy, but we have a spirit that yearns for the Holy. The Bible shows clearly that we have a choice, and God is faithful. He hasn't left us alone to ourselves with nothing but our willpower to save us. "No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it." 1 Corinthians 10:13 (NKJV)

The way out will always be provided, but will you take it?

What's My Name?

My name is unusual. If your reading this believing that it is pronounced Tanya, Like Tanya Tucker, then you are sadly mistaken. It is odd that I get weirdly offended by the mispronunciation of my name, I know. I have had this name my whole life and have been called some strange things. I always find it amusing when people find hidden letters in there and call me Tanisha or Tatiana. I should be used to it by now, and sometimes I don't even correct people because I don't feel like it's worth it. I once let a coworker call me by a different name for almost 3 months. Seriously, I really did.

My point is, and I am not trying to sound like a crazy lady (ahem, it comes natural.), I just want everyone to know what my name is;

Taniya [ten-knee-uh]

Say it with me;

10-knee-uh

Well, I appreciate the effort anyway...

Reading Kills.

As I sit at my desk on this lovely, warm May morning, I can see a faint breeze rustling through the green lush of spring, reaching up to the bluest sky of the season. The birds are chirping with new life from above and the air is fresh and free.

I can see it all from the window on the other side of the office....

Okay, that was a little dramatic. The window is only a few feet away. You know what my problem is? Books. And maybe a little bit of Disney, but mainly books.

I don't view the changing seasons as a simple natural cycle, I see the world through romanticism and L.M. Montgomery's eyes. I can hear the swelling sounds of a BBC film when I think about weddings. Men are weighed to the goodness of Austen's Darcy,  F. Wentworth, and Mr. Knightly. I mean, really. They're fake. Nobody can compare to a fictional character.

The truth is, I have done this most of my life unconsciously. I blame this entirely on books. Not to say these books are evil, or wrong to read. But maybe I have been missing the point. The men in these stories married wonderful women. The Witty Eliza Bennett, Forgiving Anne, and the Reformed Emma. Could I have been focused on the wrong characters?

The answer: Yes. Well, maybe not. Wait.. Hold on. I have to think about this.

How many women fantasize over the romance of the century, and wholly expect some dude to sweep her off her feet. Or awaken her from her slumber? What makes us think this poor dude wants to pick us up after we sat around eating ice cream with our favorite Austen? Or wake us up? Let's face it, we all have nasty breath when we wake up. So this guy has to be on steroids or something to heave us out of our helpless state, blind to our dragon like appearance upon awakening, and immune to equally dragon like breath...

Even for me, a single girl, that sounds a little rough on a poor guy.

There is a tiny voice telling me that I should have been spending more time on myself, cause lets face it, I am no Anne Shirley. I don't even know how my hair would look red. Probably terrible. Or amazing. Who knows, that's besides the point. The point is I should have been using those wonderful novels as a way to reflect upon myself.

*Reminder: These books are fake and should not be used as a guide. Repeat ladies. Fake. Not a guide.

What is the guide?

"But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you" Matthew 6:33 NKJV

The first step is here, and every other step will follow. I see so many young girls in the church make marriage they're sole mission in life, when there is so much more that God has planned for us. Marriage is something we should desire, God created it! But we often forget that marriage is not a destiny, it is the stepping stone to a calling.

I know, we still want that fairytale romance, I wrote this mostly to myself, I am one of the worst offenders. I can recite Pride & Prejudice line for line. I love BBC...*Sigh*. Seriously, Pray for me. Just writing about it makes me wanna go read the books again...

Cause she's the coolest!

True Warriors.

It's April. The same month Disney's Bambi was born. Did he die at the end of the movie? I can never remember...

Speaking of births, I am going to be an Aunt. My sister is about to pop and I am so excited! My own little nephew. He is either going to be insanely terrified of me, or think I am the coolest thing since the death of the bell bottoms fad. The second one...in the 90's.

Ahhh.... Materfamilias. The Matriarchal figure. The one with an extra celebratory day...

Is that really necessary though? Not that I am the one questioning it. That's just the attitude society has adopted. I won't even mention the lackluster of Father's Day.

In light of the many upcoming births within my circle, I have decided to write an ode to all mothers in honor of their wonderful sacrifices. Also, mothers day is next month and I want to have it ready, just in case I forget to buy something...


Oh Gee, Oh Wow,  it's finally time
you've told me once, you've told me twice
(though never would I without sigh),
To clean and vacuum this room of mine.

Tomorrow day will come and go
and chores will stack a mile high
you beckon and call without reply
continue to ignore, bravely I go

Heed not to your voice, i am alright
there's a new game to play instead
if i get up now ill surely be dead
building my XP will take all night

A sudden violent twist of ear
a grand miracle has taken place
a loving mom with a hand of grace
"were you calling me ma? I could not hear!"

You know, I am not really liking the direction this poem is going so I'm just going to stop right there.

Mother's have babies, who turn into little monsters who turn into preteen monsters, you see a cycle here? Any way, my point is, they deserve this. Maybe even more, seriously. Kids are monsters. Very terrifying, loud, smelly monsters.

So, brave warriors, we salute you. Well, not like, today, but on mothers day... you know, next month.....

All Hands In.

I'm going to lay it on the line and say something a little different today.

Sometimes, I don't feel like writing comical blogs. Sometimes I want to just write about all the horrible things that happen. I know that's not fair because the horrible stuff is everywhere and I need a break from it too. So, I won't. I will write about me. again....

Here we go.

Last week I was witnessing to a cousin of mine and his friend, the conversation turned into a debate. It eventually felt like 2 against 1, and I was losing. And all I could think was, why am I losing? I am the Christian here. I should know the answers to most of these questions. How did I lose dominion so early into this?

I don't exactly remember how it turned into what it did, but I can't stop thinking about it. What I shouldn't have said, what I could have said, why did I get so angry? This person is someone that I desperately want to see saved, and instead of leading the conversation to Christ and the Cross, I got sucked into a whirlpool of "If's"and "Why's".

I am not writing this to be a black cloud, on the contrary. Sitting in Revival last week with Evangelist Scott Snellen and hearing God's word has been an encouragement, and even through this failure, I am reminded that God can use me through my weaknesses for His Glory.

1st Corinthians 2:1-2; "And I, brethren, when I came to you, came not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. For I determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified."

God is so faithful that He would use people who have very little talent and so many faults to be the instruments used to bring souls to Him. If only we would allow Him a place in our lives, He could move so much more!

Being saved, I believed for so long, was enough. That, despite my many failures, even as a christian, as long as I did the bare minimum and made Heaven my home, that was all that really mattered. But that is in direct contrast to what God has called me to be. It is disobedience.

Mark 16:15 says: "And He said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature." 

Clearly, God wants us to do more than read our bibles and pray for the nations. He wants us to go to them. Not just pray for our city, but take it in the name of Jesus! Yet, I find myself arguing philosophy with the people God has called me to reach. Or, I'm not sure which is worse, not saying anything at all. Silenced by fear. Or something else?

 2 Timothy 1:8 "Be not ashamed of the testimony of our Lord..." 

I pray that God gives me the boldness I need to reach the lost. Not just the people I love. The lost on the street. The lost in the grocery store. The teenagers at the mall. Revival is upon us, our cities aching for the cleansing blood of Christ. God is already moving and I don't want to miss any part of it. I want to be able to lay a Crown of Glory at God's feet in praise and worship!

This blog has been a totally serious one and I am not really sure how to finish it....

So, hands in guys.

The Sickness

I hate being sick.

I hate it.

You may think my saying that is redundant, because, doesn't everyone hate being sick? The answer to that question, is no. There are seriously people who enjoy the attention they get for being sick. At least that's how it seems to me.

In case you were wondering, I am sick. And everyone at work is avoiding me like the plague. I am not a leper people! I don't have a fever! Don't leave me alone....

After spending a whole day on my couch with a roll of toilet paper (I was out of Kleenex, don't judge) and an almost full carton of Orange Juice supplied by my empathetic roommate, I have a renewed appreciation for work. There's a cabinet full of Kleenex boxes! It's like they never end! Tissue paradise!!!!

...Time for a new box..

This is literally how I feel right now. And look, obviously...

(photo credit: I-MaK)

I just felt like complaining a little...

The Super Bowl has come and gone again. After the flurry of excitement it has come to a sad and disappointing end. This may be considered a holiday, or a second Christmas for the menfolk but believe you me, it's much, much worse. And this year, it was a blood bath.

I didn't watch it.

I can probably guess what your thinking at this very moment, I am thinking the same thing. Why write about something I didn't even witness? I'll tell you, and the beginning of this blog and my future rant are about to come together like the concrete and a clumsy fat kids face...

Football is sick.  And it makes me sick. I mean, seriously, when you can't rely on a stinkin' Manning to dish out sweet, ice cold revenge on the team that crushed the dreams of an entire Bay Area...What has football become? That's right, I'm a NINERS FAN. Stupid. So stupid. I don't even like football...

I bet the half-time show was super lame (again) too. I am glad I didn't watch.

....

Sunday not wasted.

....

....I wonder if the half-time show is on YouTube....

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...I'm out...