Married Life, Motherhood, Parenthood

Torrential Downpours…

The day that I found out I was pregnant was April Fool’s day. I kinda wasn’t interested in finding out for awhile because although we were trying to conceive, we were so broke that I often couldn’t comprehend why I even was bothering. We’d gotten married a year before & married life didn’t look “shit!” like I thought it would. Let’s sum up what happened within two months of being married so you feel my pain.

Five days before my wedding I was terminated from my (somewhat) comfy job as a restaurant manager where I’d been for 6 yrs. They let me go a day after my work anniversary. In between tears to my now ex bosses, I asked if I would still be receiving my vacation pay considering I actually made it to my anniversary. They gave it to me although I knew I had earned it regardless. (Although they later on tried to take it back!) My wedding was supposed to be this amazing event that I created without a wedding planner or caterer. It was a 4/20 Hip Hop Wedding. Since it was during cherry blossom season I decided I wanted to get married underneath the Cherry Blossom Trees in Eastside Park ( the park I grew up in as a child). Plus it had been a childhood dream of mine to be married there. The only way I believed it wouldn’t happen was if there was a torrential downpour. The night before the wedding forecasts showed there would be a torrential downpour 😳😳😳……………………… So as I prepared to go to my reception venue to have the wedding there (as a backup plan), I arrived that morning to a flooded building! I don’t even want to discuss how when I went the day before to set up, there were 2 parties going on (one had a blowup jungle gym) along with a woodshop class happening in my area! My venue promised me I’d have it a day earlier to setup. The woodshop class happened throughout my wedding by the way! We set up while being soaked and many of the guests never arrived. Anywho that story is for another day. After the wedding ( because I never hired a caterer or a planner) we had to break the entire venue all the way back down and return products and such everywhere. We had almost 200 people attend. We weren’t done until 5am returning everything. The next day we were supposed to fly out to Vegas for our honeymoon. We missed our flight which happened to be the last flight of the night ( causing a $250 fee to change flights). I cried myself to sleep that night. We flew out the next morning and had an amazing 3 wk stay in an awesome town with awesome people! But what was going to happen when I came back home? My mind wouldn’t let me commit to just having a good time. I needed to file for unemployment with a 3 hour time difference & try to figure my way out of a jam I felt like I created. Thank God for husbands & particularly mine. He kept me calm throughout the entire experience & made me remember why I loved him each step of the way.
When we got back home we had 3 wks to move out of our apartment. We lived there for 3 years & planned on moving into my mother’s house so we could inevitably take it over once she retired in a year. We also wanted to have a bigger space for my husband’s daughter Robyn. Initially I never wanted to do so much all at once. Moving 3 wks after a honeymoon sounded insane but considering I had no job & my lease was up I had all the time in the world to get this done. We ended up moving out with no one to help us move a single piece of furniture. A one day job took us three and it rained on our heads the entire time. After we moved into our new home (my home from my teenage years) my stepdaughter graduated from 8th grade three weeks later & basically never returned to her mother’s home. I officially became a stepmother. And there you have the two months that came in the case of a torrential downpour.

I’d lived my life so care free most of the time. I never had to be too concerned with anyone other than my happiness. I’ve always been able to fumble backwards into the sheer terror of being an actual adult. It’s like once you have children you don’t get that luxury anymore. It doesn’t matter what age they come to you as. Your responsibility becomes all about them & less about you.

The first month of highschool was tough for Robyn & a huge adjustment for me. In the first week Robyn decided to tell us that they wanted their major changed from medical arts to graphic arts. The challenges of all the newness going on for me, this child & my husband was beyond overbearing. Not to mention we lived with my mother only a doorstep away. Was this the life I signed up for? Was this how it was going to be for me now? I had a 13 yr old child going on 14 who at times seemed like they were going on 10! How could I raise someone else’s child? I barely could comprehend myself.

I stopped taking my birth control a month before my wedding. It wasn’t on purpose though. Somehow I changed my insurance coverage to a plan that made my pills cost $427 for a pack of 3. I damned near almost shit my pants at the price and began crying. This was 3 months before my wedding. I couldn’t even begin to fathom where the money would come from to pay it. So I stopped taking my pills. Once we got a child in the house I had to question if I wanted another. As pleasant as my stepchild was, this was no walk in the park. Life became cleaning up after a child that was larger than me! It meant extra dishes. Never having a meal that completely belonged to myself. Opening a box of cereal to see a quarter bowl of wackness. Drips of milk left in cartons for my despair. One egg left in a carton for my breakfast. Filthy rooms that reeked of a new smelling sweat. Extra laundry. Sharing all my toiletries including my shaving supplies, my hair supplies, my special soap I bought at that festival that I wanted to use for a special occasion!! Did I want to share my life this way!?!?!? I’d like to say Hell to the MFn NO!!! You take everything about a partner when you marry them though. But could I deny my husband what we both agreed upon wanting?? Another child to start from scratch with. I couldn’t choose the sex of the child??? Hmmmmm. After much hesitation I decided that if I were going to have a child that I needed to start working on it no matter the consequences. No matter the financial struggles, no matter the costs! I wasn’t getting any younger. That was November of 2015 by March I was pregnant. In the words of the Wu-Tang Clan, “Life as a shorty shouldn’t be so rough.” I had 9 months to figure out what I would do to support this seed I was growing. I needed to figure out how to survive.

April Fool’s bitch! U pregnant today! This was the first April Fool’s day I stayed offline. No need in tricking people into me being pregnant when I really was. The entire time since we’d gotten married people began keeping tabs on my vagina & it’s occupancy specifically in my uterus. I wasn’t here for it in 2016. I was about go “Ghost” on social media because this was about to be the adjustment of a lifetime! And this baby growing in my belly had better been a boy because I definitely didn’t need an extra period in the house!😳😳 I began drinking a ton of akaline water & praying for a boy! A year later I’m sitting here trying to adjust to this little person that’s completely attached to me. As much as I’d like a break, I’m still memorized by this little creation. I guess torrential downpours can be something that pushes you into a new state of Light per se. And this year April Fool’s day is still null and void because I’m still trying to catch my breath.

Who you gonna be today?

Married Life, Motherhood, Parenthood

It’s A Man’s World…

I was the head of my household when I had no household. It was just my boyfriend and I. We began small where he had a steady income. I was a professional server & I was never happy with that title. I had been working in the hospitality industry for almost 20 years. I began working at a young age. My first job was at 12 years old folding clothes at a laundromat for $2 a load. At 13 I became a summer camp counselor for children. I couldn’t even be paid until I turned 14 in August. At 15 I signed up for the track team but ended up quitting a week later. I got a job at a pet store and cash seemed better than playing sports.

My mother worked hard to keep a roof over my head but teenagers are stubborn. I wanted more than what she could give. I needed to look a certain way (buy my own clothes). I wanted to feel responsible for my own life (buy my own food). My mother had a way of showing me what “tough love” was early. Let’s just say that I learned what financial struggles, burdens & responsibilities were a bit earlier than I would’ve liked.

By 17 I got my first job in a restaurant. I worked as hostess at Red Lobster. Who knew I’d live in that industry for the rest of my life. Every time I tried to run from it, I’d end up right back at it.
My calling was to be a writer. Every inch of me always knew it. I’d try to do both. I’d try to have it all. I’d fail everytime.

I’ve been unemployed for almost 2 years and it’s been interesting discovering my passion again. When I’d gotten into the car accident a year ago I’d lost a bit of feeling in my hands. This time was supposed to be an opportunity to create something new/better. So I created my son, Light. He’s amazing in every sense of the word.

My family gave me the opportunity to create this new life yet I can’t help but feel guilty for it. I don’t have a career. The age old question to women is can u have it all? It’s plagued me my entire life. Is family & career possible in the same timeline? I’m not so sure anymore. Many women do it but sacrifice is consistently there.

I’ve got an opportunity to go back to work now yet I can’t help but think about how it will effect my family. Baby Light isn’t even 3 months old yet & he’s exclusively breastfed. My postpartum is still raging at different moments throughout my day. I have yet to have a complete day alone since before the baby arrived. So now I’m supposed to pass him off to a stranger while I go interact with people I don’t truly care for.

I never expected to be unemployed this long. I can’t say I thought I’d have a baby this soon either. I’d like to believe Baby Light is worth it. He’s worth all the struggle but why should struggle be so apparent with raising a child?

Society makes it easier for a man to go back to work. So they say. I’ve watched the pain in my husband’s eyes has he comes home exhausted unable to have a coherent conversation with me. I’ve seen him too tired to play with his son. I question if more work from me is needed yet at what sacrifice? Sometimes the roles need to be reversed just for you to realize there shouldn’t be roles at all. It is a man’s world. But in name of James Brown it wouldn’t be nothing without a woman or a girl.

I’ve created a solid comprehension of what a home looks like to my stepdaughter. I’ve been able to utilize the system to a certain extent & get us all therapist for free. I’ve worked with other pregnant mothers, to find support in what I had been going through. It’s important to cultivate on your surroundings and make the most of the situation. I’ve learned now, how to give of myself in a bigger way. The question is does the work force deserve me back so soon though?

Who you gonna be today?

Married Life, Motherhood, Parenthood

Love’s A Losing Game

I thought I lost myself in you again.
This is something I do with every relationship where the love is strong.
Where it’s like …
ocean water
smashing it’s currents against rocks.
I thought I lost myself in you again.
This time telling myself it would be different.
Telling myself that we would last until the end of time.
(As Prince plays as our ringtones.)
I found dust particles of myself laying on ur skin from when I died before.
I thought I lost myself in you again.
Because this time I was older.
Smarter than I’d ever been.
I wasn’t choosing a man who was truly a boy this time.
I wasn’t choosing to ignore the games being played this time.
The lies would not be believable this time.
Yet still I thought I was


In You.
This time I chose a man who had boyish ways yet they were charming.
A man who played games but only on PlayStation.
And that the only thing that was unbelievable was that Biggie Smalls was the illest.
This time I lost yet I won.
And I won with you.
We won together in a losing game of
Like an Amy Winehouse song turned into dates w/ music abt things we loved.

You gave me my motherhood in a way I would inevitably choose to explain.
Gave me the title of wife that I would choose to uphold.
And undoubtedly we made a life together that looked like Light.
Looked like Superman.
Looked like Jesus.
Looked like the junior to your senior.
And I’ve finally become OK with losing.

My husband came to me almost exactly 7 years ago around this time. I saw him walking down the street in the busy downtown area of our town. As he got closer he appeared familiar to me. Even though I thought he was attractive, I wasn’t the type of person to step up to a man and “mack game”. I truly thought I knew him. So once we got to passing each other I asked him, “Do I know you?”. His response, “I don’t know? Do you?” And the rest is kind of history although I will say that we ended up not connecting that day & it took me 10 months to find him again. Lol. Sounds like a story right out of a book. Once I did find him again, I can’t say we were ever really apart. Clearly we were soulmates even though I didn’t know it at the time. I still had my guard up. I think it lasted a whole month & a half. We been loving, fighting (or as he would call it disagreeing) and making up since 2010. I don’t regret any parts of our story. He gave me the opportunity to experience life in a different way than I expected. I couldn’t choose my happiness with children. I had to just accept what they were giving me & make it be beautiful. There’s something completely different about how I was raised vs to what I am creating in how to raise my family. The blendedness of it all wasn’t something I expected but Robyn has had a way of making me grow into the mother I didn’t know I could be. Baby Light has shown me strength I never knew I had. Being a wife has come with triumphs & complications I’ve learned to beat. I never knew what my future would hold. My parents weren’t the best at giving me examples of what a happy married life could look like. But I believe I’ve made something amazing in my own right. Something worth fighting for. Family has a way of repeating itself in the way we choose to raise up. I’d like to break some of those traditions & create something new in the name of love.

Who are you gonna be today?

Married Life, Motherhood, Parenthood

Ya Best Protect Ya Breast!!!

Protect ya breast

I love The Wu-Tang Clan & any quality material from my Hip Hop culture that’ll help me explain everyday life to my kids. That’s right! Kids! (Do yourself a favor & listen to A Tribe Called Quest’s song Kids… You’ll thank me later.) I currently have two children that are at two COMPLETELY different stages in life. I have a 15 yr old stepdaughter and of course my 8 wk old son. At first when I began showing that I was pregnant, people used to be so happy for me & tell me how I had a built in babysitter. That shit is so damn far from the truth at this particular point in my life that I’d like to just jump out a window for every time I heard someone say it to me last year. Ohhhhhhhh my young, intuitive, growing into a young adult, who hasn’t even fully developed their frontal lobe, yet swears they can comprehend their life so well, as to explain it to me to make me think I know nothing, child! Yup. Hmmm mmm. Throughout my posts I will refer to Robyn as… a plural, using they & their instead of her or she out of respect for their identity. My teenager identifies as a Genderless Pansexual. 😳 We’ll discuss that further on a later date. Initially when Robyn told me that they didn’t want to identify as a she or even a he yet would rather the plural use of they, I almost lost my damned mind! I’m a writer for crying out loud! It’s one thing to comprehend a person as a gender but when they choose neither yet want both!πŸ˜’ NO!!!! U have to choose one. Right? Right? RIGHT!!!??? Welp. My comprehension of it all is that we have moved into a hypersensitive time where having a backbone isn’t completely necessary. I know I sound old saying this but gone are the days where u could curse someone out about anything without it turning into a “triggered” situation. Sending a person off the deep end has become easier with social media. You can hide behind the worldwide web while you troll people to death, LITERALLY! So I guess with that type of power, our kids “would” become hypersensitive. Walking around with mounds of anxiety, insecurities & medications. It’s the new world order. I’ve consistently tried to explain to my teenager that the reason most kids are stupid is because their parents are stupid. Broken people raise broken people. It becomes a vicious cycle of pain that can be quite difficult to move away from. You can almost say that the pain is somewhat inherited down to the next generation. It kind of looks like what the effects of slavery are to my people of color in America & the islands. Perseverance is key though. There can be alot of that if you’re strong minded.

But back to the subject at hand. It’s 8:50am on a Saturday morning & I haven’t slept all night. My baby boy took some shut eye while I made myself believe that my stories (these blogs) were worth sharing with the world. Robyn has woken him up with her clatter of movement while the chores are done. I’ve reverted back to the bedroom with a wide eyed baby. He lays latched to breast as I type away hoping he’ll eventually break free. And when that happens… My nipples… My nipples will get to belong to me again for anywhere between 10 mins to 3 hours. I wanna cry!!!! I just keep singing “You best protect ya breast!” in my best Raekwon the Chef voice. My body just isn’t mine anymore. Breastfeeding is a completely undervalued art that no one can understand until they go through it. This child is literally ripping the moisture from my soul!!!! He legitimately leaves my lips so chapped that they sometimes bleed. I’m so tired that the last thing I’m thinking about is putting on any form of chapstick because it may break out his sensitive baby skin if I kiss him. So I just use his diaper ointment as lip balm. Luckily the hippie in me tends to buy alot of organic products so his ointment is completely edible. It’s made with nothing but different oils. It’s called “Nature’s Baby Organics” made by a concerned mother about having pure, natural things for her baby. But no amount of oil is going to bring back the sanity that’s being sucked out of me with each feeding. No one mentions how your body turns into your baby’s milk computer. He cries & my nipples immediately hurt like hell! I feed & my uterus starts to contract like ouch! Too many times I’m left holding my head just to pull my hand away and see flakes of dryness fall from my forehead! I scratch my head to dandruff galore! He’s sucking the life OUT of me. Yet I guess if it’s that platinum elixir that’s going to make sure he doesn’t get sick & give him all the antibodies he needs to get through the winter and the world, it’s worth it. I’d just like to sleep, just once! It doesn’t even have to be alot. I’ll take 5 hours!!! Oh my God! 5 hours would be like eating steak & lobster with a big bottle of champagne to me right now! Ohhhhhhhh how I miss the champagne. It’s like I gave up my right to drink. I’m not even a drinker like that but a glass of wine every now and then would be nice but NO! I’m definitely in a different type of life sentence. It’s literally a “giving life” sentence. I don’t think it’s ever going to end. I don’t even know if I truly want it to end. There’s something rewarding in feeling needed. It leaves you with a sense of accomplishment even in moments of complete failure. I’m still able to look at the sun & appreciate it’s brightness. Still look at the rain & be grateful for the water. Still look at the snow & be grateful for an opportunity to escape outside to shovel (it’s a great past time for me. Just some headphones & a shovel. Shhhh don’t tell anyone thoughπŸ˜‰). I’ve constantly tried to escape my circumstances with this mom/wife business. Loathing the moments where someone was calling my name! STOP calling my name. But don’t stop needing me.

Who you gonna be today?

Married Life, Motherhood, Parenthood

When The Tough Gets Going…

I’ve gotten used to not sleeping well. I’m 8 weeks and 2 days out from delivering my first child. Gone are the days of sleeping in until whenever & waking up to do yoga. Gone are the moments of having silence surround my eardrums as I meditate myself into calmness. Gone are the trips to the movies or even to the supermarket for that point that reside within being alone to just be… at one with myself. Before having this child I made sure to fall in love with myself first. I made sure to endure life in its glory and horridness first. I made sure to feel heartbreaks over and over. I made sure to love hard and relentlessly. I looked for happiness in dark alleys with the wrong people & found love on snowy hills where I never thought I’d be. I created a crazy world for myself that I married, divorced & remarried. I made myself comprehend my life over and over again until I remembered what I wanted enough times to be able to find it on the many days I forgot who I was. What I needed from the universe was to understand & exude love in a different way. I needed to “be” love so that when I lost my way, love would come screaming from around the corner “U created THIS!!!”. I’ve lost sleep & possibly my sanity within moments of this new year but I’m here for the journey. As scary as it may be to step into my destiny, I’ve began to realize that motherhood is something that isn’t created for everyone. I feel privileged that I’ve been able to get my dreams to manifest into the most important things to me (even if I’m super broke). Β I have love, family & a village I’m choosing to create with each waking day. In these next couple of months I plan on sharing ways to find happiness within the struggle. Seems like finding a light at the end of the tunnel is going to be needed for many of us.

Days begin whatever way they begin. Everyday won’t be great but what’s the used of crying over spilled milk especially when it’s spilling into the mouth of a newborn baby I’ve created. Perspective is a gem. I sit in my living room with a ‘MyBrestFriend Nursing Pillow’ strapped to my waist as my newborn sleeps beneath my breasts. My obese cat Sugar snores in the background while my other cat Kane stares intently at me in the darkness of my living room. I’m content. Superficially, I don’t have much but fundamentally I’m rich and from there I’ve created facets of amazingness that I’ll put in future posts. Today I figured I’d just give a slight introduction into my world. My world looks like no sleep, typing in the dark, losing my work 3x in a row & choosing to begin all over again with each mishap. That’s what life is about anyway, realizing you have a choice to begin all over again tomorrow and make it better this time.

Who you gonna be today?