My Black History: Day 21.

Well, look at "this." I'm blogging for my 201st time on day 21 of my Black History series and it's leap year. I have a couple of "things" to mention within today's post so here I go...

As the very last day of my own Black history month of recognition, I'm reminded about the significance of numbers. Seven as being very Holy to me. So, capping my series at 21 feels like I'm in the right place at the right time. My family consists of 3 members and by my personal calculations I've done a good "thing" here with "this."

Remember the white board, that I brought into our house which ultimately became our inspiration board? Well, it's still making good use. My youngest daughter drew a picture commemorating Black History. I'm so touched by her creativity/artistry. Black History month keeps us informed and teaches the younger generations about all the challenges we've overcome and those, which we still face as Black people in America.

"No More Segregation!!!" That's what my little girl meant.

I agree. Diversity over division. 

So, last leap year I wrote a letter to my future husband with hopes that by this leap year I'd be married. Well, I'm no one's wife, not engaged and can not honestly say, "that" I'm in a serious relationship. Still not time for me and I'm ok with "it." All in GODs timing so I'll just continue to hold onto my faith and wait for the lifemate, that He is purposely readying for only me.

My momentum for blogging is at an all time high. I look forward to these moments when I force myself to stop whatever "it" is I'm doing to turn inward and to concentrate on my own thoughts, while also, creating "this" digital journal, that I can refer to at my leisure. "It" is indeed, a very good "thing." 

"Won't stop. Can't stop. Not now."

My Black History: Day 7.

I'm bouta be brief and finna goeta bed in a lil bit.

I ohno bout dem, but showl know lots bout me.

I be tryna do my best like I'm spoesta.

Language is an art. No one should be made to feel less equal than others because we speak differently. I, along with many of my friends had great elementary school teachers. We were fortunate.

My mother had a vast vocabulary, but still spoke in slang at home. So do I. Most of the women in my family mastered the art of grammatical English and standardized speech is something, "that" I'm very familiar with. When I was a little girl I had a "thing" for the dictionary. I still refer to the dictionary daily at some point or another. Either to check my own usage/spelling of a word or to better comprehend something I heard, but didn't quite understand.

In my lifetime, I've been referred to as "ghetto" just because I speak slang. Some have also accused me of speaking "proper" or talking "white." If I must be hit with an identifier-label, what does "this" really make me?

Prophetto/Ghetroper?! Ghettite/Whietto?! Laughing out loud... Heehee-Haha!

As I continue to teach my children right from wrong, I will also ensure, that they remain proud of whom we are as Black-Americans, but remember to never allow society, insiders/outsiders, or anything to box them into any ONE category.

Black people are so much better than what's thought, what's said, what's heard, what's felt, and seen by the mean. 

And So. I Thought.

I had what I was going to blog about all planned out. I mean, I've been thinking about "it" all day and even over the weekend, but oh! How a single moment can change anything. My mood this evening went from a happy yellow to a raging red.

Why?

I'm still sorting through my thoughts about "it." On my way home from work I stopped at the grocery store to get a few "things." When I finished paying for my groceries, I felt my cellphone vibrating in my pocket. My first thought was, that it must be my eldest daughter calling to ask me to pick her up so I made every effort to grab my phone and answer her call, but I couldn't.

Why not?

Well, when I looked at my phone as it vibrated continuously, the screen was dark. As if my battery had died or something. I know that I should've upgraded my phone within the past two-years at least, but I made the decision that I was going to use it until it became unuseable. Whatever the problem was causing my phone to vibrate was so persistent (extremely annoying), that it just vibrated all the way home, as I walked into the house (gladly, my daughter was there already), and kept on as began to try to get situated after coming in from a full work day. "This" was so distracting to say the least, but I'll share more...

I lost my cool. I wanted to destroy my phone because I was so frustrated with the vibrating noise and the fact, that I couldn't gain access into "it." Before I went off on my iPhone 4 (yes, it's 5-years old), I attempted to fix it by plugging it into the charger; that didn't work. I then asked my daughter how to remove the sim card, which she showed me and I got it out, but the bleepity-bleep phone was still vibrating. At "this" point I wanted to fight "it."

Why?

Ok, I'll admit "it." I've got some unchecked anger rooted in my upbringing, some personal setbacks, my status as a "babymama" (double-time), my economic struggle, not having control of my own time, lack of passion for the "things" that used to contribute towards my daily cheerfulness, feeling overwhelmed about all my responsibilities, and not being able to say exactly how I feel to some people for the sake of "saving face and keeping the peace."

Sometimes, we break ("things"). Tonight, I broke my phone. I am somehow, now able to write peacefully about "it," but my children were puzzled about witnessing my tantrum and asked if I'd "be ok." I assured them I would be, but I needed to get through "that" personal moment of despair. I wallowed in "it" for about 45 minutes, fussing about how upset I was at the phone and how "it" was messing up my night.

How did I give that piece of junk so much power over my mood?

I'm not sure, but I do know, that I was very immature with how I handled my frustration over a device. Needless to say, I'm not so into my phone "that" I can't live without "it." However, I'm a mother, I have a job, and folks that are concerned and care enough about me to call and/or text me.

How can they now?

They can still leave a voicemail message, but I won't know until I check. I'll no longer be alerted instantly. I'll miss texting.Yes, I'll replace the phone probably very soon, but I didn't have to make it an urgent matter.

Did I?

No, now "that" I'm thinking (instead of feeling so mad) it probably would've vibrated itself completely out of charge. Then maybe, just maybe, but I guess I'll never know now (silly-foolish me... not laughing, but smirking at myself). I could've recharged "it" and perhaps, it would've been fine. Now, I'm hoping, just hoping, that AT&T has magical powers to retrieve my data, which is now hammered into the deepest inside parts of the device, literally. Wouldn't believe, that I formerly kept "that" phone in tip-top condition and it still appeared new outside of the protective case.

What to do?

Admit my error: Done. Reckon with myself and move on: Currently in effect.

I'm no longer afraid to share my failures as my willingness "to do" so, helps me to better accept and consider my choices moving forward. I completely failed myself in the department of self-control tonight, but I also recovered. Totally, right here in "this" sacred space in time for me. Thank GOD!!!

How am I now? 

Still blessed and highly favored. Next!

One moment, each day at a time is the best way for me to find balance within myself and others.

Welcomed. Wednesday!

This morning I sat at the computer and thought about blogging. I kept thinking, "I haven't gone through anything (yet) today. It's kind of funny that I had that thought because I initially began blogging in the morning. I found "something" to say then...

I decided I'd get to it later so here I am. Guess what? I still haven't "gone through anything." 

Okay, I did get frustrated for a very short period earlier today when my youngest locked us all out of the bathroom. I tried to get in with a butter knife, but resorted to taking the screws off of the door knob to get in. In the end, I felt proud of my efforts and it wasn't the biggest deal. 

It's interesting how easily I overcame very few obstacles today (something about Wednesdays). I believe I'm beginning to understand what "it" is. I'll bet that I experienced "something" GREAT on a Wednesday some time ago and decided then, that I will always LOVE Wednesdays! 

Since then, miraculously, my perception of "things" on Wednesdays is usually very pleasant. More often than not. Now if I can just hold onto "something" GREAT for every other day of the week: I'll have a completely renewed attitude!

We "can" use our powerful minds in positive ways! ;)