Getting Very Busy!

I don't really have time to be here today.

In Just. Four Weeks.

I will have an adult child by legal standards in exactly 30 days. I keep reminding her, that as long as she lives in my household and as long as I live she will respect me as her mother. Her future husband, kids, colleagues and circle of friends will as well. 

Or else...!!!

Attitude Refreshed.

In my new role at my job "it" involves many meetings, notes on top of more notes, and a willingness to do homework. There was a time in my life where once the end of the business day comes so do my efforts towards "it." I'm now in a position where I really want maximize my professionalism.

I always want to know what I'm doing and to be able to perform tasks with high efficiency. "This" is a first where I actually want to do the homework necessary to become more competent in my role. As tired as I feel right now, I'm going to study accordingly and be as ready as I need to be for the meeting tomorrow morning.

My mom used to say I had a very bad attitude. Sometimes I do, but it's not something I'm proud of so "it" is being checked daily as I remain aware of my need to improve in "this" area. I'm so grateful and appreciative for the faith, that my colleagues have in me, "that" I refuse to just float with the workflow. I plan to grow personally and professionally with "this" opportunity.

More than a splash I am. I'm a wave of new energy with a renewed spirit fit for regal crowning. 

Got my new bag. 

Next, I'm getting new shoes to go with my new walk. 

#strut

No Theme. For April.

I'm returning back to my randomness effective now. Part of me wants to abandon ship here... Again. My other parts say keep moving forward without any unnecessary pressure, but don't leave "this" precious blog to just sit unattended to. When I log into my blog sometimes I wonder how I allowed an entire year to pass without posting one single entry during the year of 2013.

I mean, for me to go from posting daily on weekdays, to writing absolutely nothing for a consistent 365 days doesn't really make clear sense. Of course, the bottom line is I just didn't want to, but how much do I have on my agenda daily, "that" I just don't want to do, yet "it" still has to get done? Let's just say "it" is much.

So, "I can" push beyond the lack of motivation I'm feeling today. "It" is simply, just a moment in time. One little moment which will pass. If I'm blessed to return here tomorrow, I'll be glad "that" I did "this." I know myself and tonight I'm encouraging myself to proceed further with "this" blog of mine.

Miss Maysha. She Woman.

Last, but definitely not least. My childhood BFF Maysha and I live on a rollercoaster within our friendship. At times, we're up, then we're going in circles and sometimes we crash. There's a bond which exists between us "that" neither of us can deny. We've experienced a whole lot together and we've also missed some beats in one another's lives.

She's beautiful and a pretty incredible woman. A mother to five children, but three are now adults. Her ability to persevere through challenging situations if a force to acknowledge. Of course, I can't rob her of the opportunity to share her own story so I'm sparing no personal details, however, I will share what she's meant to me and why she remains relevant in my life.

We've practically raised our children together. They share social networks and respect one another like family. We experienced our last pregnancies together and our daughters spent nearly every day of the first year of their lives together.

Growing up we were partners in crime. She'd tell her family she was at my house and I'd tell my mother I was down the street at her's, while we were blocks away flirting with older boys. We would call ourselves chocolate and vanilla.

I genuinely love my Maysha regardless what we've been through. Whether we're up or down, still I pray for her and her family. Not too long ago we were on an off-spell, but when she found out my mother passed away she came to check on me. In person. Being the loving, compassionate woman that she is, "it" wasn't a second thought to make sure I was ok under the circumstances.

I remember when I had my first daughter I couldn't seem to find a caring and safe babysitter to watch her while I worked nights. Even though Maysha had a housefull, she still extended help and kept my daughter for me on several occasions. My daughter would always spit up after a feeding and "it" took a whole lot more than just dabbing away the mess. She would have to change my daughters clothes, get her settled and calm again. Then she'd have to mop up the vomit. Would you know "this" phenomenal woman didn't complain once? Unbelievable, because I could hardly handle "this" from my own baby.

Maysha had to become a woman long before her mind and body was developed into one. She remains hopeful and determined, while putting forth her best efforts to create a comfortable lifestyle for her family. Her eldest son is now a father so she's a glamma (her word). Laughing out loud.

I must mention all the whoopla we cause when we go out in public together. Being single and liking to mingle is an understatement when we hit the town. Good "thing" we've been so busy attempting to readjust our lifestyles, "that" we haven't gone out in years, but I feel an itch coming on and she's mentioned "that" we're long overdue so "this" summer better watch out.

What we share in common most now is the lense we view our families from. Unfortunate, but a reality which we both have had to come to grips with. The first step towards our healing is acknowledgement. The second; taking positive action to make a difference in our own little families consisting of our children and circles of true friendship.

#GODain'tdonewithUSyetbetterasksomebody!

I Love. My Friends.

...just when I'm feeling down with my back against the wall, "something" special happens, which reminds me, that I am fine just as I am and everything will fall into it's proper place at the right time!

Fantasy Happy. Wednesday!

My Black History: Day 17.

Dysfunctional Family...

Growing up in a family with accepted dysfunction has kind of warped my perception about my place in mine. While I'm in the process of evaluating what my family has been, what they are, and what I hope family for me will become, I've decided, "that" I will not accept dysfunction as the norm any longer.

When I was a little girl, I always knew "it" was wrong for someone to offend me without making some type of amends. Yes, I forgive, but no, I don't forget. I'm a bit slow forgiving, but I do eventually, come around.

I'm thinking heavily about "this" subject matter because the only people whom I've allowed to remain active in my life, who've offended me without taking any kind of action to resolve the issues, are none other than... Yep; family.

My mother was the queen of dysfunction. She would provoke me, push every trigger-button and be completely aware, that she was being offensive. We'd get into "it" quite aggressively then part ways, whether it'd be her hanging up the phone in my face or me walking out of her home vowing to never return. So many countless occasions I am able to recall.

Then out of the blue with no apology and no insinuation towards one, she'd call casually as if nothing ever happened, to discuss something else or ask about something concerning her grandchildren and I'd follow suit. Or, I'd have a need and call for her assistance. No apology from me; just a request and if she obliged, then I was happy and we were cool again.

Just another unresolved issue swept under the rug...

Far too many conversations were never had between my mother and I. To this very day, I cut people out of my life without any explanation for doing so. I just go. Detach and keep "it" moving. "This" behavior had exclusively been shown to acquaintances and friends, but now I also, extend it to family.

I realize, that I allowed my mother to be as she was towards me because simply, she was my mother. I found it very difficult attempting to omit her from my life while she was alive because she raised me and I grew compassion for her once I became a mother. A single mother just like her and when my brother was murdered, I vowed to never leave her regardless of any offense she subjected me and/or my children to.

I kept that promise, but now "that" she's an Angel looking over us I'm demonstrating how I will not accept the same dysfunction from anyone else. No one. Not from my children, no best friend, no boyfriend/husband; absolutely no one. Granted, I may be a little dysfunctional myself, but I'm working attentively to improve some of my worst attributes. "It" begins with acknowledgement and trust, I'm very aware.

My extended family hasn't been much more than a holiday family. Hear from them for a holiday gathering invite and that's about "it." There's a class divide and my mama's little family of her own, being my brother, me, and our children seemingly fall low on the totem pole. I've grown to resent "this" and honestly, still do. So guess what?

Darn right! I cut them out of my life and do not fool with them period. Why? The LORD gave us the ability to choose and I choose to allow only those who choose to demonstrate, that they want to to be present in my life and accept me as I am. "This" is my choice and I can live with "it."

I am breaking the chains of dysfunctional acceptance in my family. Come or don't come at all, but if you do come, come correct and honorably, or be dismissed. Pressing forward, keeping "it" moving through "this" journey called life with the family bloodline or with a family-designed.

#MyPerspective

My Black History: Day 12.

I don't wanna be anybody else

But me

I won't tolerate anyone, not nobody

Treating me without dignity

One may find me too tough

Too strong

Some just don't know how far

I've come along

Everybody ain't my friend

And "that" is fine

But there will be no Black end

Never, in any lifetime 

So, just let us be

As we highlight Black History

It shall never leave our memories

That we are root contributors to world history

My Black History: Day 6.

Today, I'm remembering those who've influenced me most, but have gone on to glory.

My Black History: In Memoriam

Granny (My mama's mom) - I was only able to spend 7-years with you before you were called, but I'm forever grateful for the sweet memories, that just don't leave my mind and heart.

Mrs. Smith (6th grade gifted/choir teacher) - I know that love exists in the hood and not everyone stereotypes because you allowed me to be the person GOD designed me to be without judgement.

Spook (My big brother) - I believe in myself and my abilities because you reminded me, that I'm important.

Kristen (My classmate from Pasadena City College) - I can laugh at time because of you. I only knew you for a short period, but you shared some special moments and insights about family with me, that I'll cherish forever.

Mrs. Mary & Jimbo Swift (Caretakers of my eldest daughter/substitute parents) - I was able to pursue my goals of completing college because the two of you allowed me the break from time, that I needed as a young, single-parent trying to build a stable foundation for my little family.

Ma (My biological mother) - I possess the strength you instilled within me and I maintain because you taught me how to survive.

These seven individuals made a huge impact on my life. I remember them everyday. I will forever treasure the stories of our lives together and continue to honor you with thoughtful action. May all of your souls continue to rest peacefully with our Lord, Savior and Father!!!

#MyRockAngels4Life

My Black History: Day 1

Defining My Black

What am I? Black or African American? 

I've debated with folks about trying to differentiate the two, but If I'm forced to choose, I can tell you.

I AM A BLACK WOMAN. 

To date, I haven't been interested enough in tracing my family tree to its original roots, but with knowledge passed on by some of my elders from my mother's side of the family, we're linked to the Cherokee Indian Tribe. I don't know a single African member of my family. It's no one's fault. Just a fact. 

The Black vs. African American argument can get complicated, but for me it's quite simple. I won't state it here, but I can't omit how the "N-word" plays a significant role in "this" as well. I'll explain further.

In a former Cultural Pluralism class I took at CSUDH  one of my classmates got into a heated discussion with our professor about his personal experiences interacting with Africans in America who were originally born in the Motherland. He said, that he was looked down upon by Africans as an African-American man born in America and because of "this" he doesn't consider himself African-American, but a Black-American. He went on and on about how Black-Americans are perceived by Africans as ignorant Americans who don't know their history without any real connection to Africa.

Of course, his experiences don't define mine, but Africans, African-Americans and Black folks, have a continuous problem, that other's can't fix for any of us. The onus is on us. There are no ifs, buts, or any way around "this."

I wish there wasn't so much residue still present from the times of slavery. I wish "that" none of us possessed the "(house) N-word or (field) N-word" mentality; let alone, the existence of the word in any dictionary. Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream and I have wishes.

Blackest vs. the not-so Black = N-word vs. African-American.

We divide ourselves. I recall being in the 7th grade when I first learned, that I was a "light-skinned" Black girl. Before then, I only knew "that" I was Black and stemmed from a Black family. Being labeled as such brought on a lot of confusion and the need to defend myself as a real Black girl, but why? 

How dare anyone discount my belonging to Blackness, simply because I have lighter skin? That's how I felt then and still, now. I'm more attracted to darker skin, however, Black is Black as far as I'm concerned.

I'm not mixed; both my parents: Black. It's not just "something" I identify as. "It" is how I was born.

One of my childhood bestfriend's is a dark-skinned chocolate beauty. I used to have a hard time believing her when she said her mother treated her lighter-skinned siblings better. Until, her children shared their own experiences with me about how differently they're treated by their grandmother. "It" seems unreal, but unfortunately, it is and her family isn't the only Black family guilty of influencing the division present in our culture.

Black people are an ethnic group. African-Americans are those whom haven't traced their roots of origin, but were born here in America and simply accept the identifier-label as a Black individual. The exception: Africans born to American parents or those who are actually mixed, having one African parent and the other, American. All Black folks regardless of their origin, were referred to as "N-words" at some point in history and even in some cases still, today. 

Do I use the "N-word?" When speaking in slang, which is my native tongue, and only in conversations with people who comprehend my language. For others, I'm aware "it" offends, therefore, I exercise courtesy and consideration of their feelings by refraining from using "it" in their presence. 

Words are as powerful as we make them and allow them to be. I am much more concerned with how people treat me versus what's said. Words have meanings, but don't define anything substantial without action.

Back to the "N-word?" I had an argument a few years ago with a man I was dating who tried to convince me, that there's a difference between a "N-word" and being Black. In a nutshell, all the examples he used to make references to what a "N-word" is offended me on several levels because I fell into some of those categories. He wasn't bold enough to say "it" to me directly, but he insinuated that "N-words" come from disadvantaged backgrounds, generations of ignorance, and aren't capable of acclimation. Remember, slang is my native tongue so what he was attempting to state or how I interpreted "it" was simply, that "N-words" come from, live-in and act "ghetto." Not Black people.

...To be continued on Day 2.

 

Living & Caring. Loving & Sharing.

Last week, while I was organizing some items I found a white board I had forgotten about. I decided to hang it up on the wall in our hallway, which connects our two bedrooms and bathroom. Initially, I was going to allow my youngest daughter to use it as her personal drawing board.

After observing how my daughters were competing with one another erasing what the other drew and personalizing their stuff with their signatures, I decided "that" the board should be used for a better purpose. A few days ago, I erased the board and wrote the following.

"Do not write on this white board unless you buy your own dry-erase markers or make a contribution towards the purchase of one." I'm so much like my mother. Laughing within.

I told my girls, that they were being wasteful by doodling on the board and if they wanted to continue doing "that" they'll have to furnish their own markers. Come on. I only have two. Yes, I said I. It's mine and I was simply sharing it with them. Seriously.

So, on my youngest daughter's birthday, I took it upon myself to erase my bold statement and created a happy birthday message on the board for her to see as soon she got up "that" morning. Would you know, I had to bring it to her attention first? Apparently, she was on the hunt searching for presents and completely overlooked my sweet and thoughtful art-piece.

I wish that I could post a picture of "it," but due to my lack of self-control the other day with my old iPhone, the picture is irretrievable because it was taken with "that" phone. Dang "it."

The morning after my daughter's birthday she erased my birthday message and drew her own thank you message. A complete disregard to my new rule, but what monster would enforce such upon a kind-thinking 10-year old? So, I let it be, but then of course my eldest had "something" to say about "it."

I came up with a better solution for the white board display in our home. I told my daughters, that we should be posting uplifting quotes & statements on "it." Some "thing" we can all read and appreciate; possibly carry with us throughout our day and perhaps, share with others. My eldest took the lead the same night I had my meltdown and decided to write out a positive quote referencing how we have the freedom to choose between being a prisoner of our pasts or be pioneers of our future.

I told her I had heard "that" quote before and she tried to take credit, but it's still a great start because it kept me thinking. Positively. The next day my youngest posted her own quote suggesting that we do something to help someone. We have a little momentum building with "this." I posted my own quote last night as today's statement. See below.

Reasoning to think better, live better and be a better example for my children and others.

Still Writing. It's Wednesday!!!

How lovely it is to return here on my favorite day of the week: Wednesday. I can feel the momentum building deeply within me as I get into a new rhythm expressing myself in words. Writing is one of my gifts. One, I've been aware of most of my life, but do I love it?

Well, I do. Although, my former actions haven't really demonstrated a passion for it. Being shamefully-honest, I haven't really demonstrated a true passion for anything consistently, other than proving my righteousness when I'm being challenged or when I'm exerting physical energy.

I was reminded by a recent situation where my eldest daughter and I weren't seeing eye to eye, that my desire to be right and to win can cause more hurt than help in some instances. I had so much to say and so did she.

In our communicative manner addressing the problem, we both knew, that it wasn't helping us come to any resolve during our disagreement. It wasn't until we exchanged some pretty descriptive emails over the following days when I realized, that my daughter had said a whole lot more than I actually heard, while in the heat of our dispute.

As my eldest daughter finishes high school and becomes a legal adult just 5-months from now, there are levels of maturity, that I find necessary to exercise. We both can't be brats, while trying to work through challenges together. Yes, she's almost an adult, but she'll have to experience life as an adult before she can really see life through my lens. Stepping into battles about what life is with my teenage daughter is foolish on my part.

So, I've learned!

To demonstrate is much better than any explanation alone. Blessed with the gift of gab, I can speak to no end about what I feel is right, omitting no details. I've discovered, that a percentage of what I say just will not be remembered. By myself or the listener. I want my words and messages to stick; to remain as Top of Mind Awareness (TOMA) in people, that I speak to. Especially, when I'm talking with my daughters.

It is better, that I write out what I want remembered. The impact of revisiting what I've written prior, is just as effective and personally touching as it was when those words were only thoughts present in my mind. It's a real treasure to reread where I've been, to reminisce on past experiences, and to be reminded about the challenging situations I've overcome.

I have begun the change with the woman in the mirror; being me.

May my Heavenly Father continue to further develop and shape me as a leader in "this" life's journey as I take action "to do" more than just talk about it!!!

Twentieth. Friday.

Numbered days for each month and names for each day...

I'm affected by numbers and days of the week. The 20th day of each month will forever remind me of the last Friday I spent with my mom in the physical form. I've decided today, that I will not allow sadness to run rampant within me on either. This happens to be the first Friday on the 20th since that landmark date in 2014.

Twenty is now a new number I'll use for lottery selections when I play. Friday's will remind me of an accomplished week and a semi-break until Monday returns. I'm proud of myself and I know that my mommy's angel is in my midst. Eight months ago to date I was reborn.

When I screamed as my mother's spirit ascended from her flesh it was just like my first cry when I was first born. In that moment, I was one with GOD. Otherwise, the medical staff would've probably had to admit me. I never allowed myself to imagine life without my mother or brother. At the mere thought, I used to tear up and had to rebuke that frame of thinking. I just knew that my mom was going to be an old lady I'd be responsible for and I suppose I kind of thought my brother would get life in prison if he didn't leave the gang life behind.

Man was I wrong! So very wrong in my small human thinking. The LORD has bigger plans for my time. Not only was my mother spared from months, possibly years of suffering; I was spared the burden of putting my life on hold to care for my ailing mom and also, from the obligation I would've felt towards by brother had he ended up in prison for life. I am free. Free to be the woman I'm evolving as without being inhibited.

I was raised in a very controlled environment. Even into my adulthood I've been overly concerned about what my mother would say about my decisions and actions. I've taken a break from regular church attendance in order to rid myself from being concerned with what the saints might say or advise me to do. I'm ONLY following demands and orders from the MOST HIGH. Period. I don't have to answer to man and I will no longer seek human approval. Over "that" completely now.

I'm finally growing up at 37-years young! There will be no more drama running to mom and no more big brother to the rescue. I miss them immensely, but sadness doesn't overrule the lifetime of lessons and love I received which I'll keep locked inside my heart forever.

Right now I'm being made ready for my lifemate as I continue to do my best raising my children as a single mother. I'm in no hurry. During this season of preparation I'm finding myself again. I've been operating on autopilot for so long I had almost forgotten how to just live. I'm happily learning how to all over again and remembering how much I love myself. "It" feels fresh and brand new.

Today is now and at "this" present moment I am blessed. 

20th - FRIDAY