Oooohhhh, I’m a tell mamma!

So the kids are sleep and I’m feeling kinda sad. I got a call from the social worker at school while I was at work and ya’ll know what it means when they have to call you…nothing good. My sweet, comedic lil’ superhero fella was at school cursing like a sailor and talking about his “brother” was teaching him this and talking about other things I’m not even going to talk about that now. I only got a call that day (as opposed to the previous week when most of the issues happened) was because he “threw books in the class room” and when she talked to him a little bit and told him she was going to call me he got his act together pretty quickly. I was HOT to say the least. I was speechless. If ya’ll know me you know I’m not going for that. Kids have a lane they are required to stay in and any swerving will lead to getting set straight by force or by choice…

So we had an interesting evening. Some conversations about language and controlling anger and emotions and how to handle situations with bullies (which seems to be the reoccurring theme this early on in the Kindergarten school year that isn’t getting resolved) then he got to choose how many days he got to be on punishment and how many swats across the tail he was going to get. Now I’m from an old school household where the way I discipline my kids would likely be laughed at. 

(These represent the evolution of my son's time outs- you know one minute for each year of age. This is usually only after two or three minutes- super nanny lied or I don't have the time out touch)

When I was a kid you got wooped and if you were extra bad you got to choose the switch
off the tree outside you’d get wooped with. Sometimes it would be the hand, belt, sometimes the extension cord and sometimes I just got items tossed at me to get my attention. I knew if I got out of line, messed up at school I was in trouble. And don’t let me try to be slick and get away with something and one of my sibling find out-it would be worse. Oooohhhh-I’m a tell Mamma (ten cool points for whoever can name the show and character that used to say that)

I never felt like I was abused yet I still wouldn’t employ some of the methods I received. I’m not one of those new age, coddle the kids and give them freedom, kind of parents either. I try to read and learn as much as I can about child development and lately there seems to be a bunch of info on how spanking is so bad for the kids.

Some studies I read suggested spanking can lead to increased aggression, anti-social behavior, language and developmental issues. One article stated:

On the international front, physical discipline is increasingly being viewed as a violation of children’s human rights. http://www.apa.org/monitor/2012/04/spanking.aspx

Really? Violation of children’s human rights? Is it a violation of the parents human rights when the kid is throwing a fit and hitting them because their kid has no respect for authority. I’m not saying that spanking your kids is the only way to do so but I will get into that in a bit.

Another stated:

Researchers found that maternal spanking at age 5 was significantly associated with greater aggression and rule-breaking as well as lower scores on vocabulary tests at age 9. Fathers' spanking at age 5 was associated with lower vocabulary scores at age 9, according to the research.
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/10/22/spanking-increased-aggression-study_n_4143886.html

I don’t recall feeling different if my mother or father disciplined me but ok whatever. I thought that was an interesting find.

Another study said this:

Previous research had also found that parents who spank are more likely to be younger, less educated, single, and/or depressed and stressed, Berlin's study said. Spanking is most commonly used among parents who were spanked themselves, who live in the South, and/or who identify themselves as conservative Christians. These parents also tend to believe in the effectiveness of spanking or believe the child is at fault in a given situation, the study said.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/09/16/spanking.children.parenting/index.html

Um, I don’t know how to even react to this one. But I’m going to go for it. If you are easily offended by racial issues you may want to deviate from my blog at this time.

That study did specifically look at lower income individual which of course included more Black folks. Why do we have such a hard freaking time letting go of outdated ways-why!! This is why we as a people can not move on and get over our own internalized shit. 
We Black folks, I think (I could be wrong) tend to discipline our kids with corporal punishment more than others and with little to no shame in it. We also have the highest population in prison, one of the highest murder rate (Black on Black) and the lowest high school graduation rate, one of the lowest races who hold college degrees-so should we surmise that causation is equal to causation? Hell no! Yet this is a fallacy that is perpetuated in study after study and in media and it fuels racist propaganda already littered with ignorant empty stereotypes. Black folks, we got to do better. We've got to evolve and find better ways to discipline our kids because how we do so DOES play a role in many things but it’s up to us to shape what things those are. We have to support and share knowledge with each other otherwise all of our kids (no matter the race) future is screwed.

There was a valid point I did find on spanking that I agree with:

“Spanking does make the kid stop," he told The New York Times. “It gives the immediate feedback that it’s working. But the goal is to have kids regulate themselves over time. And in that, spanking fails.”

The idea occurred to me to begin a weekly section on the blog linked to my facebook page called Mommy Manual. (Click on the tab at the top)
In this we can share honest advice and tips on parents in real time-from mommy to mommy. This weeks topic will be disipline and spanking. Check it out to see my take on the topic and why I was so sad. Don’t forget to leave your advice or tips thoughts on the topic. 

Love affair with Sam G

I have been in denial ya’ll. I think it’s time I come clean and let my man know that I have been having an affair. I have actually been not only double timing him, but triple timing with two others…I’m a hoe…A technology hoe!

I have a love affair going with my cell phone. I call him Sammy G. When he gets all red and hot from me using him all day long I spend my nights with Mac. How did it come to this? When did I develop this aching need to spend every waking idol moment attached to technology?

It may have started back when I first saw New Jack City. Those huge cell phones. I was like-YES I need that. You mean I can talk to someone when I’m not at home or on a payphone. I need it! But my mom shut that one down-probably not the best look to be in middle school lounging on a cell phone as big as my forearm.

Then the cordless phones for the house. I was like-YES I need that. You mean I can walk around the house and talk on the phone and not have to untangle the cord or maneuver around the super duper long cord on the phone in the kitchen (don’t act like it was just at my grandma’s house-ya’ll know you had that one phone that had the 19 foot cord that everyone always used). We had to have one in every room.

Then came the beepers and  2 way pagers. Oh my goodness the beepers. My daughter asked me the other day, what a beeper was and why I even had one. I told her-I could page someone and leave my number for them to call me back and if it was important I’d put in 911-who wouldn’t want that, and a cases (from the booth in the mall) in like every color. YES! She looked at me and was like, no mom-that’s an epic fail. I’d have to agree.

Two way pagers were pretty cool back then too. I was happy when actual cell phones that could fit into a back pack or purse then came along. The wonderful flip phones. Dang flip phones were the most popular thing for a while there.

Fast forward to the invasion of smart phones, tablets and laptops and you erase the notion of personal space or private time. My phone is always on, I’m always connected to the internet wherever I am. I can’t tell you how many times I have called and cursed out Charter because my freaking wireless internet was down. I didn’t know how to function without it. I had to go learn (from the internet) how to troubleshoot, repair and hook-up my own wifi and create my own personal network at home so I don’t lose my internet connection-hopefully not as much. I needs my internet- It’s like it just keeps calling me man, it keeps calling me…lol

Sorry about that lil’ tangent, I’m back. But isn’t it simply awe-inspiring how far we have come with mobile technology just in our lifetimes? Imagine how our kids will look back and recall things. I can find any answer I want on google. Watch how it’s done on Youtube and order the supplies on Amazon. I can text you that I can’t come to your party because I’m home sick then you can see on four square or facebook that I’m actually at DSW. Ok that wouldn’t happen-I keep my GPS off at all times. I can play uno with friends (well random folks) listen to music, watch tv shows, read a book, video chat I shop for my guy by sending him a picture of what I’m looking at, scan items while I’m in the store to see if there is a better price somewhere else. Buy movie tickets, check in for a flight, check my kids report card or see if she is where she’s supposed to be when she’s supposed to be there, and most importantly, buy junk! Oh yeah and I can still make calls.

And if I get sick of my phone I can open my laptop and do just about the same thing only with a bigger screen and the added bonus of being able to write. Who needs a man or kids-hell I’ll just buy life sized cutouts just to keep around after they leave me for my technology addition. At least I won’t have to feed them or no one will interrupt me when I’m playing candy crush.

I will point out that with my love affairs and addiction, I have become an impatient, give it to me now kind of person at times. I'm not as bad as those folks who are in the bathroom with the cell phones-yuck! Don't do that people-it's nasty. That call can't wait and we gotta hear you talk about nothingness while we trying to have a moment of silence and a quick piss. I mean think about all the poo and pee particles in the air and on surfaces and then you touch it then touch your phone and put it to your face then come up to me like-hey, you wanna see this picture on my phone and I look at you like hell no I don't wanna touch your phone with feces particles on it. Whew, ok I'm done with that one, sorry. LOL

I can’t recall the last time I actually called someone and had a long, long phone conversation. (like the ones that used to last hours and you’d fall asleep holding the phone with the dial tone ringing in your ear) Emails and ecards/facebook posts have replaced letters, and notes and cards. Being adventurous has given way to, let’s check the reviews first. My love affairs are slowly taking my humanity!!! Help me!

I tried to break up with Sammy but he just sat there, looking all sad with his blinking lights. Then, he vibrated and I knew he really wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet. He needed one more chance to show he can give me space and let me be free. I just can’t let him go. I can’t let Mac go either. They mean too much to me.

I’ll promise myself, I will only spend time with them for 3, 4, ok 6 hours a day and only if it’s at night and only if it’s for working on my novel or blog. Unless I need to google something or make a shopping list or…maybe I should look up on my phone how to not use your phone so much…oh to hell with it!

Me at a poetry reading. Yes I do have tons of poems saved on my phone.

(side note-my man was catching on to my affairs so I got him a lil’ distraction we’ll just call iPatty, and he’s been MIA ever since)

I should be twisting my hair but....

What do ya'll think? Anyone else out there find themselves attached by invisible cords to their devises?

Hair I go...

My eyebrows this morning...Yuck!

Why....Why do I do this to myself? I know it's going to be painful. It may cut me, leave a scar or make my skin swollen and red. Yet I keep doing it. What is wrong with me.
Oh yeah, because I don't want to walk around looking like a circus sideshow act. The bearded woman anyone.

Of all the things I love about being a woman, hair removal is the last on the list for sure. Well maybe getting my period is last but I won't go there. I wish I didn't have to go through the motions but God decided that light skinned Black women should be extra hairy so...yeah.
I know what you're thinking, it's not that bad. It's that bad. If I skip a fews days, eh nothing black stocking can't hide. Skip a week or two-AHHHH. I'm gonna need two razors to clean this up. It get's so drastic that when I do shave, my man is so excited that...well I won't go there, let's just say I can skip the 12 play-lol. I don't let it get out of control by any means but it's a damn chore. Every day I'm either plucking or threading my eyebrows or mustache or beard. Shaving my legs, armpits or stomach (yea don't act like it's just me) and other areas that I won't even tell ya'll about. It's insane.

Funny side note. I once tried hair and nail pills and by the end of bottle I didn't see any difference in growth with the hair on my head but um, I swear I had a freaking goatee and hair on my chest. WTF! Never again! LOL

Any how I have tried it all. Shaving seems to be the tried and true method.
Waxing. I have never felt that much pain until I tired electrolysis. Plucking, damn it hurts. Threading, yeah like yanking tears from your eyes. Nair, ugh...Nothing turns your man on like walking in the bathroom to a rancid smell of depilatory cream and you standing there naked covered in thick cream wiggling around from the itching. Sexy.

I think I should go on hair removal strike. Let the unibrow and goatee grow in. Let my leg hair fill in so I can accessorize when I wear a skirt-maybe braid it add some beads to match my shoes.

Would ya'll still talk to me? Maybe I can start a trend-a revolution! I refuse to torture myself any longer. I will be free and love all my hairiness in it's glory.

Yea that's what I'll do...Right after I'm done plucking my eyebrows and shaving my legs. Ok I'll start next week, maybe next month when it get's colder. Who am I kidding, I'm going to keep torturing myself. Hair I go...

I must not be shaving right because I never look that damn happy....

Anyone else have a love hate relationship with hair removal they wanna share?

Bucket of Legos

I have MIA for a while now. I'm sorry and it's sad that I haven't been writing. I have a good excuse, I've been in my own world studying Hinduism and learning how to medidate. I'm feel much more centered now-not sure why I didn't do this years ago, but that subject is a whole other blog I'll write about another time.

Tonight, I'm reflecting on my recent discovery of legos!
Being a girl, well woman now, I didn't get to play with them as a kid. My daughter was never interested in them either so I was excited when my son wanted some for his birthday.
However, I didn't quite think this one through... I have already felt the piercing pain of stepping on legos in the middle of the night. I have already survived the mini meltdown when he couldn't find the tiny helmet for the lego Iron Man. Don't even ask me how many cuss words I said as I sat with my son for an hour putting together the stinking boat that the lego Avengers ride in...WTF, an hour sorting through tiny blocks. I thought I would never get done, but I was so proud of myself when it was complete. Then it occurred to me that legos are sort of like my life right now.

Right out of the box, I'm a complete mess. Pieces of this and that all over the place. At first, it looks like the possibilities and combinations are endless. Peice by piece, trying to build something, I get frustrated and want to give up. In the process I don't see how what I'm doing could ever look like the object shown on the box. Although it seems to take forever, when I'm done, I'm so proud and I just want to tackle another project.

So that's my life right now. Evaluating all the pieces to see what to build next. Although lately, I'm not hoping it turns out like the image on the box-I want to create something totally different with my life.

Now I've confessed my new fascination with legos as I sit here playing with them like a big kid. Tell me, what childhood game is similar to your life right now?

Ruby slippers

What is it about a super cute pair of new shoes that makes a girl feel all gittty and pretty? I don't know but I loooooove me some heels. Don't you?

Being only 5 feet tall (there I admitted it for all the world to know) sometimes heels are a neccessity for certain outfits. Ever had the issues of not being able to find the right height heels for you pants or vice versa?  Having options is not optional, right?

I think I became obsessed with heels when I first saw Wizard of Oz and Dorothy had on those ruby red glitter heels...Yeah baby-I have been searching for the perfect replica ever since ya'll. I love heels.

My daughter thinks I have an addiction but as a mother there aren't many things I can buy for myself that I can keep all to myself. My laptop gets used for school paper and games and netflix marathons of superhero cartoons and power rangers so all I have left is my heels. What's so bad about that?

Any how the point of my rant this week is because I saw something on the Today's show about what's an approperate age to let little girls wear heels... With the things they make for little girls to wear, the least of my concerns forcing them to grow up too fast would be heels.

I wore heels to church as a little girl-no big deal. I allowed my daughter to have a pair of sandals or dress shoes with a little heel-no big deal. Even if they want to wear them all the time, trust me they will soon decide to put them away. While they are oh so freaking cute they can hurt like a mutha- $#!%^&. Even as an experienced heel wearer I have to give my feet a break during the day.

So here are some of the benefits, that I have found, to wearing heels.
They make you look taller.
They make your legs and butt look awesome.
You develop great posture and balance.
You look sexy (unless you go the rachet route then that's just a waste of a good shoe)

Now done wrong you can jack up your calf muscles and hips not to mention if you slip or fall it's a done one for your ankle. They definately are not for everyone, even if you can find them in your size. However, when you find that perfect pair that just calls your name from across the store you feel like you have found your sole mate! Hello there lover-where have you been all my life....

Me and my fav glitter heels on Beale St.
Great night with  my fam!

So ya'll I can't be alone. As I'm up late shopping for my next new lovely pair, tell me about your favorite pair of heels and why you love them. And do you think there is an appropriate age to allow your daughter to begin wearing heels? Think on that and be sure to share...I'll be browsing on zappos and amazon while I wait on your responses. :)

Not my closet but I'm working on getting here.

When I grow up I want to be...

Didn't we all have dreams of grandure growing up. We knew we were going to do great things with our lives. I laid in bed thinking about my life. I suddenly felt disappointed in my accomplishments. So as the kids lay asleep, I lay crying about the life I thought I lost.

Days later  I realized why I was crying. Why it hurt me so much feel like I have more do with my life. Different dramatic events had taken place that had exhausted me emotionally. I don't vent to anyone except my laptop and I was so upset that I couldn't get out a single word let alone string together a sentence or two. There were a shit-load of things that needed to be done around the house. I was freaking broke and my significant other was doing his usual complaining about this and that and the kids seemed to need everything all at once and.... I was ready to explode!

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

This is the short story of the realization I have come to: As a Black woman, a teen mom, an unwed mother, somebody's girlfriend-not wife and a self-repressed writer, there aren't many options I gave myself. I could blame society, sure. Racism, sexism, but I'm more than qualified for any job I apply for but at the tender age of 28 (plus 2-almost 3). I find myself, again, reevaluating my career move. Sure I make a decent living in a promising industry but failing to complete college as planned has left me holding the short straw when it comes to looking for a new job. That's my fault.

I choose to stay with a guy for over 11 years and allow the relationship to exist with no final destination of marriage in the travel plans. I'm hurt when I'm treated like the girlfriend despite assuming the role of wife. I didn't let him get the milk for free, I freely handed over the whole damn cow. That's my fault.

As a adolescent I indulged in a relationship with a controlling, manipulative person and despite getting out of an abusive relationship with my daughter in hand, it still haunts me. Control and manipulation is sill poising my life as he does this through my daughter and the court system and my emotional link to the pain of what I failed to provide for my daughter. While I can't control the actions of an idiotic man, I can control my reaction and it's effect on my life. I have not and that's my fault.

There are 24 hours in a day and that's not nearly enough time to do all the things that need to be done to run a home and devote a decent slot of time to writing. No matter how many different techniques and schedules I employ, I can't squeeze anymore hours out of the day. I tell myself I write just write on the weekends, then that's bumped for this or that. I will write for an hour in the mornings and then I'm running late each day. I will write at night, but there is no place to sit void of everyone else's mess and it's loud and after everyone is sleep I fall asleep in whatever spot I'm in because I'm so damn exhausted. Other writers can do. Other writers have the same 24 hours I do-so why can't I seem to get it done? The fact that I can't is my fault.

I had plenty of chances for success and many more stumbles and failures and this is what I needed to stand naked in front of and stare at. I did not make the most of every opportunity I was given. I didn't make the most of each day I was living. I fucked up-and the sight of it was so painful that I couldn't get out of bed for nearly the whole weekend.

Of course there are things I was proud of that I've accomplished. But there are even more things I'm regretful of, ashamed of (one being starting this sentence with 'but'-I am resisting not deleting it but then  I'm going to delete the whole blog post because I will rethink putting this out into the universe and then I will regret not having done so because I really have needed to get this out of my system). I don't like to show this side of myself or admit it exists-I'm the tough lil' chick-but the feel is deep ya'll. Bone deep.

What do you do when you feel you aren't good enough? Like you don't measure up as an adult.

I tell my daughter that we are all work in progress and as long as there is life left in you there is life left to be better and accomplish more. I have been telling myself that a lot lately. Time to be the woman I aspired to be.  There is still time to write the things I made excuses not to write. Time to finish college-change careers. Do the things I love doing so well that others can't take their eyes off me and wait for the tangible rewards to follow as a result (Maya Angelou). It's hard to decide what to do when you grow up when you feel like you've wasted so much of your grown up years waiting on life to begin. It's hard to let go of the life you thought you'd have and embrace the one you have been avoiding.

That weekend I mourned that life I thought I was supposed to have-the woman I thought I was supposed to be. I should have mourned her longer but the kids needed to be fed and the laundry needed to be done and they didn't care that I wasn't what I wanted to be-all they cared about was that I am there for them when it matters the most. Right now...

Do I have to get out bed today......

Last night I couldn't sleep, well for the past few months I haven't been able to sleep much. I could blame it on any number of things but the down and dirty reason is writers block....

 

Yea that's is pretty much how I have been feeling. I usually go through seasons where I write feverishly in consecutive all night stints for months, then in slow trickles of notes here and there, some revision of old stuff, then, nothing-literally nothing. I have to force myself to sit and just write something, anything becasue when I don't write the crazy comes out. Ya'll I mean really crazy-bad dreams, night sweats, shitty attitude, crying, overly emotional, can't eat, don't want to get out of bed kind of crazy. Even my kids know, 'ok, let's leave mommy alone so she can write the crazy away'. It's sad.

This blog was supposed to be a way to force me to write when I feel the block weighing down, but, well, it's a challenge. I'm always in search of methods and routines to try to keep myself from falling to that dark, dingy place writers go when they are blocked.

Go for long walks or runs....

Caffine...Alcohol....Junk food...Healthy food....

Cook...Bake...Clean...Paint...Draw...

Read a good book....Watch a good movie....Play a video game......Listen to music...

Take a nap...Take notes....Keep a journal...People watch......

Meditate...Have sex...Don't have sex...

I could go on and on. 

If you've never experienced writers block it's kind of like...the feeling of always having the word or phrase you're in search of on the tip of your tounge. Like trying to sit and write but a huge burning hole is in the place where your thoughts are-if you reach in just the right way you may be able to pull a thing or two out but what if you get burned and what if you grab the wrong thing and what if you make the fire worse and...it's like standing on the end of a cliff you've jumped off many times before, you know you can make it down but what if this one time you bust your head on the rocks or break your neck on the way down and become paralyzed and land on the bottom bleeding and wild animals come from nowhere and begin eating away at you lifeless body and you are awake watching them but you can't feel anything because you are paralyzed and all you can think about is why did I jump and try to write this stupid book that no one, not even your own mother even likes anyhow...ok that's a little dramatic but I think you get the point.

The scary part about writers block, well an artistic block of any kind, is learning about how painful it can be. I thought I was alone and insane until my boyfiriend got me a poetry book by Anne Sexton and I read about her blocks and demons and how eventually, in my opinion, that killed her via her taking her own life. Another one of my favorite poets and another poetry book my honey got for me was of Sylvia Plath. Yet, another amazing poet suffering from an emotional life with her own demons that led her to the same tragic suicidal end. (there seems to be a theme here, I think) I am terrified of this place. Even more afraid of the block then death itself. I mean, death is final, but bad writing or never having written anything worthwhile, is eternal. Feeling like you have something to say but nothing to say at the same time is pretty maddening. 

There is a tug of war between the intense emotions it takes to write and the burden of the build up of emotions when you can't find a way to get it out. It's soul searing at times. Manic and mellow, depressing and daring, euphoric and exhausting-all at the same time.

Sometimes I wish I could run from it-the urge to write-but other days I'm sure I couldn't live with out being able to do this. I wouldn't want to live if I couldn't write. So, writers block or writers bliss, I will take the seasons as they come and try to remind myself to look forward to the days when it flows through me as effortlessly as the stars twinkle...because tomorrow I must get out of bed and give it another try. 

Now that I've vented a lil' about my blocks-tell me your thoughts on writers block. What do you find helps you clear your mind when you feel stuck? 

Hold on...am I an emotional hoarder

So I spent the weekend organizing and cleaning. I was fussing at everyone in the house for holding on to junk that they didn't need anymore. Books, clothes, toys, anything that they think they may possibly be able to find a use for in the future. Reminds me of the folks on that show Hoarders. Shameful.

Then I came across a few rubbermaid storage containers I have in the basement-damn-I may be a hoarder. Ya'll, I have possibly everything I have ever written since I was in the fourth grade. But in my defense, everything I write is like my baby, so it's hard to throw away my thoughts and feelings. I have every card and letter anyone has every given me. But I don't get many letters and the ones I have especially from one of my fav cousins in Arkansas help me remember good times. Ok so I may have have an hoarding issue-specifically tied to emotions.

I didn't have an issue throwing thing away at all but I didn't have a few moments thinking about what used to be and what I thought things would be at this point in my life. It was the emotional attachment-good emotions- that made me stash those things away. I didn't keep the things that held bad emotional memories, but that didn't keep my mind from wandering to the sad places that ended the good times. Why do we do that-hoard things that remind us of good memories and immediately burn the things that have bad memories?

Would we be more emotionally rounded people of we give both the good and bad equal space in our hoard? It doesn't mean we need to roll around in the emotional flashbacks but keep them near and handy to peak at may not be a bad idea. This is why we let certain people constantly come back in our lives and hurt us again, we have tossed out all the bad emotions tied to the situation and only held on to the good. I heard that's why women have babies again and again-because we forget labor pains and turn around and do it again. We hold on to the beauty of the birth, not the screaming in pain and not knowing if when you push are you pooping or peeing-ewwww.

So after the kids went to bed, I allowed myself to sit and have my moments with my hoard. Good and bad-happy and sad. Then I prioritized and threw a bunch of junk away!

I can't be the only one thinking and feeling like this. Tell me, what things do you hoard- physically and emotionally? And how do you think we can clean up our own emotional clutter?

Am I waiting for the right one...

Day two of fighting a massive migraine. Home with a drugged up lil' guy who just had his tonsils and adenoids removed and wants to do nothing else besides watch Dr. Who-all of them-again. So what else can I do besides write.

Anyhow, I saw a post on facebook that stuck with me (as philosophical facebook posts often do-lol). It was: One day someone will walk into your life and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else. Hmmm....

That thought could inspire great love poems and epic love stories but does it ring true in real life? Is there really a someone for everyone out there just waiting to be found? 

There are some relationships and marriages I honestly admire. They seem to just fit and workout so effortlessly. Then, there are others that always seem to be in turmoil and on the edge of seperation. The rest are somewhere in between-or at least we hope to be. How does this happen? How does one meet a partner that seems so perfectly matched yet others go through life always picking all the wrong ones?

I have been with the same guy for ages now-since the beginning of time-lol. It's been more like 11 years, but it feels like forever. When I met him, I thought I was sure he was the one! It all just seemed to fit and workout. He was THE ONE! My how new love can make you feel like nothing else matters. Years later, after many many ups and even more downs, we are still together, working hard to keep it together. Some days it's downright impossible and others it's as effortless as blinking your eyes. Marriage is an option we explored but have yet to leap into for various complex reasons. Knowing what I know now, I sometimes question my certainty back then? Is he the one for me? Am I the one for him? While our bond is often too deep to describe even in poetry, I still look at other relationships and wonder how I can make mine better.

I like to think of all the relationships we have before marriage as practice for the real thing. You get to test your patience and work out the details so you have it together for the 'one' you are meant to marry. This idea could be wrong. What if the 'one' doesn't exist the way we think we know it? What it the 'one' is a work in progress, like you and me and the real secret is for you two to work together to become what you are supposed to be. Then the question becomes, how much work makes the relationship worth it or not? How much patience and tolerance should one have in a relationship if your goal is marriage one day? Do you hold out for that person that makes it all easy? What if s/he never comes? What if you miss the 'one' because you are focused on a relationship that will never be what you need?

How do we know when we have found the right 'one'? I don't know, but the pursuit surely drives us all and has the power to destroy empires and inspire timeless works of art.

What do you think? Does the 'one' really exist or is s/he a someone we work with? How did you know if the love of your life was the 'one'? 

The kids may not be sleep, but you can still share-I'll be up all day and night with the Dr. Who marathon :)

Relax… Just act Natural

I just put the kids in the bed and decided to flat iron my hair for work tomorrow. A process I have a love hate relationship with for sure. Then I began to think about my hair styling options, maybe it’s time for a change.

I have never been one to jump on any fashion or style bandwagon. Things change too quickly for my taste and the last few years there seems to be a mass transition to sistas going natural. Trolling around on message boards and blogs folks seem to have strong opinions-even biases about our hair. You’re one thing if you chose to get a relaxer and you are another if you choose to go natural. You can’t win! Sista’s, relax, just act natural it’s only hair!

Full disclosure I have been there and done that with the natural phase. Way back in like ’05, ’06-I did the big chop before the big chop was a part of transformation blogs on youtube. As a matter of fact I likely have had every hair color, hairstyle and length (grown or mainly store bought) since I began my career as a kitchen beautician at the tender age of 13. I have experience on both ends of the spectrum and I let me give you the quick scoop.

As a natural sista, I definitely felt free. It’s humid or it’s gonna rain-who cares. Feeling kind of playful, I’ll throw in a flower or put on a scarf. Big dangly earrings to accent the ‘fro-heck yea! I could go back to straight in zero to 3 hours flat (lol) then right back to ‘fro nation after one wash. Unfortunately, the ‘fro didn’t work out. It was always dry-I mean no matter what I used. All natural oils, leave in conditioners, it didn’t matter. A few hours later it would always be right back dry. Combing/picking it out-Lord help me! Actually my boyfriend helped me-he literally had to help me pick out my hair! I am not tender-headed but I was in tears then as soon as it dried up it was shrunk right back down and here we go again with the moisturizer and picking. What didn’t work for me was my 4a/ 4c hair type (and lack of available products and tools-but that’s a whole other issue in this city) For you hair novices I have some quick easy info on hair types below.

Now you can see why I was in tears trying to detangle it even a little bit.

Fast forward years later to regular relaxers in 2011 when had a quarter life crisis and died my hair-didn’t like it and died it back. Bad idea. Although I do a great job taking care of my relaxed hair, it was in horrible shape after that. A year later after many cuts and trims to remove the thinning and damaged hair, I was back to the luscious locks. Thick, healthy relaxed hair. Touch ups every two or three months. Regular trims, regular deep conditioning treatments. Blow drying and flat ironing kept to a minimum. Alternating weekly co-wash and shampoo. Wrapping my head at night. I was on it ya’ll! Then I learned another hard lesson. Stress and poor eating habits are just as bad on your hair as crappy maintenance. My hair began to shed and shed and shed. I didn’t know if it was normal until I did some research.

Generally people have around 108,000-110,000 strands of hair for those with black or brown hair, 140,000 strands of hair for blondes and 90,000 for red heads. I know that seems off but hair thickness and wave/curl pattern play a big part. Losing 50-100 strands of hair a day is with-in normal range considering the different phases hair may be in at any given time.

I think I was losing around 150-175 strands a day. No I didn’t count, but having to clean the bathroom sink and sweep the floor every time I did my hair gave me a good idea. Ugh, I won’t even tell you how often I clogged my shower drain…

I began taking vitamins, using better hair care products (even making my own). Just generally taking better care of myself and lowering my stress level has helped a lot but I’m still left with a mystery-what to do with my hair.

My last relaxer (touchup) was in January of this year and I have slowly cut off the ends of my hair that were damaged beyond repair. (no product can repair split/damaged ends-it just needs to be cut)  I’m left with a half afro/half relaxed head and decision to make. Act natural, or just relax?

What are your natural, relaxed or hair dilemma stories?

I woke up one day a grown-up

Let me get this out here right away-I am surely still a sexy tenderoni who can drop it like it’s hot but I was just hit with the notion that I can’t recall when I became a grown-up. I know I didn’t just wake up one day and I was grown. I recall getting my first place, voting the first time, buying my first drink (legally and illegally) but I don’t know when I actually really became a grown-up. I can’t be the only one ya’ll, right?

There are many milestones that mark adulthood for us women. Some of them come too early (having a baby in high school) others seem to never happen (getting married or buying your first house). At some point, though, we look at our lives and the decisions we are making and say, “damn, I’m actually grown”.

Side note: if you are still finding yourself telling folks on a regular basis “I’m a grown ass woman” then you may not have reached that point for real.

It happened somewhere in my mid to late 20’s, I think. I mean I always acted like I was grown and felt like a goofy kid but now that I’m 28 (plus 2) there are many grown up things I find myself doing that I would have rolled my eye’s at in my self absorbed early 20’s or smaked my gum at in my fake hard chick late teens.

Things like clipping coupons. Checking in on my 401K and credit report on a regular basis. Parent teacher conferences and going up to the school cussing out teachers and principals (ok that last part may just be a lil’ ghetto but trust me it needed to be done so don’t act like ya’ll ain’t never done it). Chore lists and family calendars. Dinner parties and antacids. Self breast exams and migraines. Passing up the extra hot sauce and blazing hot wings because I know I will be sick later and ain’t nobody got time to be sick when all that damn laundry is waiting to be done (I miss my hot wings soooo much). See, grown up stuff. When did this happen? Can I undo it? I see chicks all the time who… never mind I won’t go there.

This is something that has been on my mind so a long long time. It’s the driving force behind the novel I have been trying to write for FIVE years. I know, that is shameful beyond words but here me out. I was recently struck with the epiphany that one the major reasons I can’t get it finished is because when I do I will have to admit that I am for real grown. That many of the plans and hopes and dreams I had for myself had not manifested partly because I refused to grow beyond who I thought I was at any given year. (yea that was a deep one) Bottom line. I am grown now, no going back. I am going to finally finish my first novel and the three others have already began planning over the last few years. Not fearing rejection or failure, I will accept my life, my grown-ness and work it ‘til the heels fall off!

To help myself with my goal-I will share snippets of the journey of my first novel here on my blog. It’s a coming of age story of three friends who try to hold on to their bond with each other as life-very dramatic life-happens. It tentatively titled, Should have Could have Would have. I hope you love it as much as I already do. Before I share, I would like ya’ll to share your thoughts on when you knew you were a grown woman. Go ahead be honest, the kids are sleep so they can’t disturb you…

Welcome Night owls

So, it's late and the kids are sleep. What to do?

Laundry-nah that's lame, who wants to fold clothes right now. 

Clean the kitchen-hell no! 

Have sex-eh I'll pass on that one too, well maybe revisit that idea later...

Write-ah yes that sounds like a much better idea!

Most of my days are spent taking care of everyone else, being a mediator, chef, chauffeur, maid, personal assistant, teacher, financial consultant, hair stylist, yadda yadda yadda. I'm left with the late nights after the kids are sleep, to take care of myself. Writing is my first love and lover I prefer to spend long nights with. I can sleep after I'm published and the kids are grown right?

It's also the time when I can text or chat with my girls about things we can't talk about when the kids are all up in our faces. Men, motherhood, plans to escape away from them (just kidding, kind of...)

This blog will be my sounding board for all the "after hours" mommy and writer things I come across. Bear with me while I navigate my way through the world of blogging and and adding content. I won't lie and say it will be life changing or even serious most of the time, but I can promise you great insight, advice, a few laughs and few tears and always conversations where you don't have to be afraid to be the marvelous mommies and wonderful writers that you are...

Now shhh...the kids are sleeping let's get started.

What do you do with your nights after the kids are asleep?