Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!

Post-It Note Tuesdays with Supah....Notes to the Munchkin....

I Heart Faces - Blue Tuesday

This is my first time playing...but play along I will...here is my submission...My first child...my munchkin..and her daddy...asleep on the couch...she was all of ONE WEEK OLD....she's only 4 1/2 months old now but my how time has flown by...I love being her mama...even bad days are good days now...anyway...here's my munchkin and her papa bear....

Sunday Storytime With My Girl Em

"Mommy, can I have a pony?"





















"What do you mean 'no'?"















"What you talkin' 'bout mama? No?"













"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssse!!!!"















"BUT I REALLY WANT A POOOOONNNYYYYY!!!!!"













"Pretty please?"

















"With a cherry on top?"
















"You're thinking about it...I can tell. I will wait patiently for your answer......"















"What? I CAN have the pony???"
















"YAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!"

Yo Mama Said WHAAAAAAATTTTTT????

I don't participate in Wordless Wednesdays because I'm a writer, and if I don't have my words, well then what the hell DO I have? So with my middle finger raised high to Wordless Wednesday, I bring you MOUTHFULL OF WHATEVA WEDNESDAY!!!

So....how many of you out there in bloggyland have a mother who used to say all kinds of weird things when they were mad at you? If your mom was anything like MY mom, you heard some of the most random crap in the world. Odds are you're using them on your own children now, even though you SWORE you never would! HA! SUCKERS!

Well, I am going to share with you some of the things I heard growing up, and CAN'T WAIT to use on the munchkin....I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE WHEN I SAY:

"DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD! NOW DID YOU _____________?? ANSWER ME!"
*ummmm....didn't I just tell her not to say another word?*

"I WILL SLAP THE BLACK OFF YOU!"
*I don't think that's actually possible, but when mom said it, I believed she would die trying. And then I'd be white. I always wondered if that would mean I would then have "white girl hair".*

"DO YOU HAVE A BREATHING PROBLEM? LAST I CHECKED I WAS THE ONLY ONE WITH ASTHMA IN THIS HOUSE, BUT IF YOU KEEP IT UP I AM SURE WE CAN MAKE IT SO WE SHARE AN INHALER!"
*Damn. My mom was no joke. How the hell she came up with this one is BEYOND me.*

"ROLL YOUR EYES AGAIN AND I PROMISE YOU I WILL ROLL THEM RIGHT OUT YA'HEAD!"
*I kid you not. She ACTUALLY said that. I don't think I even BLINKED for a week after that*

"IF I HEAR YOU HOLLERIN' ONE MORE TIME I WILL BREAK YA'FACE!"
*This was actually started by my aunt. Because of her fierceness we actually believed she would do it. No one wants a broken face in the second grade.*

So, these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. My mom was an AWESOME mom - seriously - THE BEST!!! But when she meant business....well let's just say my mom didn't play. If she said "jump", you had better be lookin' for some pogo shoes because the words "how high" were just gonna get you the look of death for "gettin' smart".

And how is it that moms can do that - give you that look that says "I swear to God if you move one more inch I am going to feed you to the sewer rats and feign ignorance when people ask for you". Will I learn to do that? Will I be good at giving "THE LOOK"?

AND THE PINCH AND TWIST!

Did anyone else's mom do this? I got this at church ALL THE TIME! And then she DARED me to make even ONE PEEP when it hurt. I always wanted to be like "He-llo! You're freakin' TWISTING MY SKIN OFF!! HOW THE 'F' AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY QUIET???". But remember that "break ya'face" line...yeah - I knew better.

But here's how I knew I was really in trouble...and if you're Latina, I KNOW you can relate.....

"ME CASO EN NA, CONIO! NO TE MUEVES Y NO TE HABLAS! SIENTATE AQUI! CARAJO!!!!"

Translation:

"You move or say another word and that's your ASS!"

However, when it's said in spanish it sounds sooooo threatening. You wanna runto your nearest church and immediately beg for forgiveness of crap you have yet to do but know you WILL do, because you know what's coming.

Ugh....childhood....I look back and laugh because I was actually a really good kid. All the stuff up there I probably only heard once in my life...but they made a lasting impression. In a good way. I'm thankful for all of those "mommy threats". They kept me in line. They ensured me that my mom was maybe just a little bit crazy.

And every good mom knows that you want your kids to think you're just a little bit off.

Just a little.

Are you off? Was your mom? What kinds of things did YOUR mom holler across the house?

Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!

White Girl + Black Guy = Slap This Mama!

I make no qualms about it - I'm a JAY-Z LOVIN' MAMA! I have loved him since Reasonable Doubt and adore him today with his latest release The Blueprint 3. When I was pregnant with my daughter, whenever a Jay-Z song would come on she would go nuts! Flippin', kickin', puinchin'...and I would just say "Go 'head little mama - NYC is in your blood!!" She still gets VERY excited when we play Jay-Z in the house now. It's pretty cute.

*And for you squares...no I don't play L'il Wayne and all that other crap for her. Jay-Z is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can hear it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO PLAY DISNEY SING-ALONGS IN THE CAR FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*

Ok...back to my post.

I also make no qualms about the fact that I LOVE ME SOME SUPAHMOMMY!!! She has quickly become a girlfriend, a confidante, and a voice of reason and sanity. (I know - who would've put Supah and sanity in the same sentence, right?) If you haven't caught up on Supah's posts, my little one loves her too. SEE? Yup...that's my munchkin reading Supah's blog. Who needs the Wall Street Journal???

*And again, for you squares...no, I don't read Cosmo to her either. Supah is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can read it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO READ DANNY AND THE DINOSAUR FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*

So, I'm sure you're wondering why I am waxing poetic over a white girl in Philly and a black guy from Brooklyn. Supah, I KNOW you are!

I am doing so because they both verbally kicked my ass in THE VERY SAME DAY.

During one of my mommy moments I was saying to S that my munchkin would never be a ballerina because of her gimp arm (she has Erb's palsy in her left arm). And this is what my dear S said to me:

"and your daughter can be anything she sets her heart to..

challenged arm or not..
she'll be a beautiful person because she has a mother like you... and she will inspire you one day when she dances in a production..."

So after I wiped my stupid tears away, I hopped in my car to get a much needed Diet Coke thinking:

"Ugh - she is so right. I hate it when other people are right. Damn."

Then I turned on the radio and my new Jay-Z cd was in - AND GUESS WHAT TRACK WAS PLAYING???

so ambitious

AND GUESS WHAT PART OF THE SONG IT JUST HAPPENED TO BE ON???


"the motivation for me, is them tellin' me what I could not be. oh well. I'm so ambitious"

O.M.G.

Could they have slapped me in the face any harder?? If her arm doesn't get any better in her lifetime people will ALWAYS be trying to put limits on her, telling her what she CAN'T DO...who she CAN'T BE. How DARE I be the one to start the chorus?? WHAT THE HELL IS MY PROBLEM???

My girl is sooo gonna rock! She will probably dance circles around me - and I can't wait until the day she comes home and tells me she slapped a boy for pulling her pigtails. That will be a LEFT HAND HI-FIVE for the ages!!!

So my love for Supah and Jay-Z grow deeper - for in their own little ways, they have awakened me to the endless possibilities of the munchkin. They are forever bonded. For me at least.

My Unlikely, Yet Blessed Anniversary

365 days ago today my world was changed FOREVER.




Looks like my uterus grew a penis, right? That was actually what I said to my OB when she showed me the picture. But alas, I was not growing boy parts on my insides - that was my kid. You are looking at my very first ultrasound picture. God had put his thumbprint on my womb and I was with child. If you've read "And Then God Laughed", then you know I had less than planned for this, and was shocked - to say the least. However, once the dust settled I realized that my dream had come true. Literally and figuratively. About 6 years ago I actually had a dream about my daughter; saw her face and everything. So though I wasn't prepared, I was ready. But a few short weeks later everything came to a screeching halt.

I started spotting.

I called my doctor immediately who told me to come in as soon as I could. I drove like a bat out of hell to meet my honey so he could drive the rest of the way to her office. She examined me and said it was most likely the beginning of a miscarriage, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. My body had to run its course. She sent me home and ordered me to stay there for the next few days. Broken hearted and filled with an unexplainable grief, we drove home in complete silence. I had never inhaled air that thick in my life. Sadness filled my nostrils with every.single.breath. I went home and waited. It's the weirdest feeling, and I'm going to put it the best way I know how. And I apologize now if it's too blunt for some readers, but this is how it felt for me:

My doctor sent me home to feel a prolonged death.

That's honestly how I felt about the whole thing. I was angry and sad and confused and every other adjective they teach you for "sad" in elementary school. So I sat. And I waited. I went to bed not knowing if the morning would greet me with more death or not. Before I closed my eyes I had a small conversation with the little person I was attempting to grow and told her that she had a job to do in there, and it was to hold on tight and be strong. I told her I would handle business in the outside world but she HAD to handle business in there. Then I closed my eyes and prayed for the best.

The next day came and at first I thought perhaps we were in the clear - the spotting had ceased and I felt pretty okay. It wasn't until that afternoon that I felt my luck might really be running out.

I was now bleeding. Not spotting. Bleeding.

Once again I rushed to the hospital and kind of braced myself for the D&C my doctor had explained would be necessary. Death was at my baby's door. I remember thinking "this is the most UN-FAIR moment of my life". A few things happened before I actually saw my doctor, and I'm not going to go too far into it except to say that at one point I was surrounded by a flurry of nurses and I think I screamed and my honey caught me. The next thing I remember is my doctor coming in and saying she was sorry, and that as part of procedure she had to scope me to make sure everything came out. Silence. And then, this:



No, it's not a kewpie doll. That's my daughter. Somehow through all that chaos she managed to do just what I had asked her to do. She held on. The doctor showed me her heart beating ever so rapidly and we joked about how she had never seen such a formed figure on her ultrasound machine before.

I like to think it was my daughters way of letting us know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going anywhere.

Due to the chaos that had just ensued, my doctor decided to err on the side of caution and put me on bed rest for the remainder of my first trimester. Not easy for a girl who likes to think she's got a bigger planner than Oprah. But for my daughter, I rested.

As time went on we saw this:

(remember my dream?)

And then this:



And finally, this:



Now, I'm not going to say that my pregnancy was smooth sailing after that huge ordeal. I had bouts of terrible heartburn, to where I felt like someone had lit a pilot light in the back of my throat. At seven months I had to kiss my heels goodbye, for my once pretty little toes had been replaced by Hobbit feet. Through out my entire third trimester I felt like my vagina was lifting 50 pound weights. I wish I could make that last one up but it's true. My entire pelvic region was having a major anxiety attack. I jokingly referred to it as ETSD - Early Traumatic Stress Disorder. I couldn't complain too much though, because it was all just a reminder that I still had something so precious inside of me, gearing up to grace the world with her presence.

So, 365 days ago I had



and today I have




Never underestimate the difference a year can make.

Perception is Not Always Reality

That One Girl: On a scale of 1-10, 10 being you're absolutely sure you want to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me (as you've stated in the past), where do you fall?

Him: 8

That One Girl: Huh?

Him: Huh?

That One Girl: Did you say 8?

Him: Yeah.

That One Girl: Oh.

Him: What? Is that bad?

That One Girl: It's your answer.

That One Girl promptly moves "ring with diamonds" given last Christmas to right hand and closes Kleinfeld.com website.

Thinks to self "time to readjust thinking because apparently I have forgotten, nothing is quite as it seems"

Where's Oda Mae and Her Magic Closet When You Need Her?

If you are a woman, and you are breathing, I think I may be spot on in saying that at some point and time in your life you had a crush on Patrick Swayze. Black, White, Asian, Latina, 6 years old or 75 years old and using a walker, admitted OUT LOUD, or held in the confines of your "kissing pillow" - you had a mad crush on the man.

And honestly, how could you not? Those piercing eyes, the cleft in the chin, the swaying hips - OH MY GOD! I'm getting all hot and bothered right now just listing those things. The man single-handedly revitalized the formal dance class studio, AND had kilns working overtime all over the world! I mean c'mon - after seeing Ghost, what woman didn't turn to her husband/boyfriend/lover and say "Honey, we are signing up for a pottery class TO-MOR-ROW" ?



Hell, I was in high school and after seeing it attempted to recreate the scene with my high school sweetheart (no, I wasn't a fast-ass, I was a teenage girl "in love", with hormones - and just so you know - yes, I would snatch Emory BALD if I EVER found out she did some of the crap I did as a teenager - INCLUDING recreating movie love scenes). But I actually broke out my childhood pottery wheel and tried to make it work. Yeah. Not so much. Decided to try with Play-Doh instead. Yeah ummmmm, remember how your mom always said "make sure you don't get the Play-Doh on the carpet"? Well, let's just say I found out the hard way why she said that.

But seriously though, Swayze took us ladies to another place. He gave so much of himself to his characters that we actually believed we could have what they were having.

Hands up. How many of us tried the lift scene from Dirty Dancing? How many? I did. Sure did. Except I wasn't smart enough to try it in a pool and when my cousin dropped me on the hardwood floor, I bruised a rib and busted my lip. BUT, P. Swayze made me believe I could do it. And I did do it - ten years later after some serious ballet classes and lots of practice. And I felt what Baby felt. Free. Light. Sexy. Fabulous. That was him. As a woman, he made us feel. Even if our significant others sat on the couch day in and day out, scratching Lord knows where with God knows what, for that short period in time we believed that they had the potential to be the Johnny to our Baby...or the Sam to our Molly. He ensured us that our awkwardness is what made us sexy, and the openness of our hearts is what made us human.

For these things, I will forever openly admit my crush on Patrick Swayze.

He rests in peace, and lifts me in my dreams.

MeMe Monday - oh Supah Supah Supah.......

Oh the scandal scandal SCANDAL I am about to unleash by participating in MeMe Monday TODAY!!! The topic - 5 white lies you have told....ugh...I am so done for....Okay...
btw - Supah, you owe me for this one...lmao!

1. To college boyfriend - "Oh my god Yes! Yes! That is sooo it! You're so workin it! Oh my god I'm almost there...yes yes YES!!!!"

- yep, you guessed it. I FAKED IT - BIG TIME (and many times)! I was young and didn't want to hurt his fragile college boy ego. He really thought he was doin' somethin' and I just wanted it to be OVER, so yes. I faked it. And I'm damn glad I did because when I wrote "The Bad Girl's Guide To Faking A Good One" for my creative writing class, I totally got an A+ on that junk!

2. To cop - "Yes sir, I know I was speeding. I am on my way to an emergency appointment with my Obstetrician."

- this was a bad lie to tell, and I immediately felt horrible for it and asked for forgiveness....but I really couldn't afford a ticket at the time...and I was obviously pregnant - so I used it to my advantage. Bad, I know.

3. To family - "I'm dating the most AWESOME guy!"

- I was dating my vibrator. Which was pretty damn awesome, and I had named him - so does it really count as a lie?

4. To self - "You'll get back in those size 14's in NO TIME!"

- Four months later I have yet to stop buying the mini Haagen Dazs cups from Kroger... but damn them for making them 10 for $10!

5. To Honey - "The kids must have found your secret stash of Mike n Ike's, Lemonheads, Lifesavers, AND Laffy Taffy! You should do something about that."

-Yes. I sacrificed my stepkids for some damn candy. I consider it payback for all the hell they've given me from day one.

So there ya have it - now that I have secured my spot in purgatory, I will go redeem myself in yet ANOTHER mini ice cream cup. 14 shmourteen....I'm HOT!

Ah damn - it was just 5 white lies RIGHT?!

I Can't Believe I Signed Up For This

I am a girlie-girl....through and through. I love makeup, purses, mani-pedi's, fabulous heels...I'm as "chic" as they come. And I'm okay with that - very okay with that. I'm surprised I like to garden as much as I do because there is dirt (and the occasional earthworm - ewwwwww) involved. However, I think the only reason I enjoy that so much is because it all looks so pretty when I'm done. So not only am I a girlie-girl, I'm a self-fulfilling girlie girl. HA! So when my honey informed me that I would have to blow my daughters nose FOR HER (she's got a wicked change-of-weather head cold), you can imagine the look of horror and disgust on my face. And it wasn't just a flash of a look, no. It was stuck on my face like someone had come along and slapped me on the back at the precise moment I made said face, and lo and behold, mom was right - my face froze like that. The conversation that took place after this information carried itself along the sound waves to my not registering brain went a little something like this:

Honey: This nasal aspirator isn't working. I think we're gonna have to blow her nose for her.

Me: Say what?

Honey: Yeah. We're gonna have to blow her nose for her. She can't breathe through her nose which is why she's not falling asleep.

Me: And so, just how does one blow one's nose for another???

Honey: Well, she will hate it. But you basically close up one of her nostrils and then blow into her mouth like you're about to give CPR. Except all the air is diverted up her nasal cavity and the snot comes shooting out.

Me: the look appears...

Honey: Hey, she's our daughter. We have to do it.

Me: (still looking at him as though he has lost his last good brain cell) Screw that man - YOU have to do it!

Honey: Well, I have to go to work today, so if she can't breathe through out the day you're just going to let her suffer?

Me: silence....brain says "Shit man, pullin' on the damn heartstrings...that was low and sneaky. Bastard." mouth says "FINE. Show me how this crap is done."

I then proceeded to watch him blow our daughters nose for her. Not only was she pissed to high hell, but when he was done, he had a face full of snot. Our daughters snot. I, on the other hand, had a mouth full of vomit. This had to be the single most disgusting thing I had ever witnessed with my own eyeballs.

But wouldn't you know it.....within seconds of him ending the torture of the munchkin she was sound asleep. Literally. KNOCKED OUT. And slept for a good couple of hours too, so I thought there may be something to this madness after all.

Later on in the day she had this congestion thing going again right before it was time for her to go down for her nap, so I said to my brain "Okay girl...we can do this.....it's for the munchkin. WE CAN DO THIS". So I grabbed my munchkin and laid her down on the couch and hovered over her, mentally preparing myself to help the girl breathe. She was looking at me all sweet and baby-like, probably thinking in her baby brain "aw geez...I love my mama...she's so much fun..I just love her...I bet we're gonna play that 'tickle my tummy' game game right now...ooohhhh I can't wait!"

Then I moved in for the blowing.

And promptly got an eyeful of snot.

My daughter was now furious with me, and giving me a look that said "TAKE THAT, BITCH!"
And I totally deserved the look. I mean, imagine if your honey did that to you. He lays you down all sweet and gentle on the couch, looks longingly into your eyes, and leans in for what you think is going to be the moment to end all moments - except he starts BLOWING into you! You would slap the mess out of him - with BOTH hands!! Which is what I believe my kid would have done if she could have. Instead, she was satisfied with practically blinding me in one eye. Which is I guess the perfect retribution for a baby.

But ugh....it is hell for this mama. No one likes a mouth full of vomit and an eyeful of snot.

No one.

Well, I take that back. No one except sleeping babies.

THROWBACK THURSDAY via FLASHBACK FRIDAY

YES - I HAVE BEEN RUNNING BEHIND ALLLLLLLL WEEK......but alas, for your viewing pleasure....putting my humility on the line....providing you all with fodder for the dinner table/water cooler/bathroom chat.....I bring you.......

THROWBACK THURSDAYS
(thursday thursday thursdayyyyyy)

No, I didn't swallow a beachball...that is me - prego...respectively 3, and then 6 months....

There isn't much to say about the pics, I think it's pretty obvious how I felt about the baby bump....

But I felt the need to post love today...there is so much negativity in the world, and it becomes very easy to focus on the bad things happening in our lives, and lose sight of the wonderful things....like our honeys....our munchkins....ourSELVES.....so my THROWBACK THURSDAY post (which for today shall be called FLASHBACK FRIDAY - today and today ONLY) is dedicated to love....

live it. breathe it. be it.

Black Girl Said WHAAAAAATTTTTT?????

It's Tuesday - so I'm a day late (and still a dolla short - hahaha)...so what. I'm still gonna play in MeMe Monday and YOU can't stop me. So Bpppppptttttttt!

However, it seems as though my mother holds most, if not all of the evidence that I was a ridiculously silly little Black girl who unfortunately, had no clue that SHE WAS BLACK. *'gasp - did she just say she was BLACK??? Oh God! Not THAT!'* (TO THE UBER-SENSITIVE READER - I poke fun at myself and society on a daily basis, consider that one a jab and start laughing - it's really not as taboo to say "Black" as you may think)

And on a total sidenote, I always get a kick out of the non-Black people who kind of whisper the word black around me, or hesitate to describe me as "the Black girl with the short hair"....it cracks me up...it's like - HE-LLOOOOOO....U KNOW I'M BLACK...I CERTAINLY KNOW I'M BLACK....LET'S CALL A SPADE A SPADE AND QUIT THIS IRISH JIG WE'RE DOIN'! hahahahahhaaha - it gets me every time!

Anyway - I totally digress....as I was saying, I was ignorant to the fact that I was Black and hence ignored the BLACK GIRL FASHION RULES. Now no, I'm not getting all reverse racist or anything so bite your quick to judge tongue and just follow along.

Yes, there ARE Black girl fashion rules. They consist of things that Black girls can't or shouldn't do because WE'RE NOT WHITE and it just doesn't work out the same for us. Since I have no pictures to share, I will just list the top five, and guarantee you that yes, I have in fact committed EVERY BLACK GIRL FASHION CRIME you see listed here.

1. The Jheri Curl - I thought if I got a curl my hair would be pretty and curly like SJP's or Mariah Carey's. SJP is White. MC is 1/2 White. The curl did not work in my favor. What I ended up with was a "follow the drip" mess of curl that when dried (and grown out) made me look like a ghetto fabulous Ice Cube (the rapper, not what's in your freezer). Thus, not a good look.

2. Braided Bangs - my grandmother's idea, not mine. I had to sleep with one of those soft pink foam rollers in the front of my head and without fail, every morning I woke up with a lovely indention in my forehead. This is when I made my very first mental note: BLACK.GIRLS.DON'T.WEAR.BANGS. Well, at least not THIS Black girl.

3. Frosted Blue Eyeshadow - Can't blame this one on anyone but me. College mistake. But damn Cover Girl for making us think we can all wear the same damn colors. This was BEFORE they had the sense to hire Queen Latifah and create the Queen Collection. Damn geniuses.

4. Frosted Pink Lipstick - I blame my friends, and my mother for this one. If my mother had allowed me to wear makeup at age 11 I never would have made this rookie mistake, and borrowed my friends makeup at school. And if I had ANY friends who were worth their weight in spit, they would have said "Hey! Guess what? Your BLACK. Take that crap off your lips. You look like someone turned your mouth inside out." But none of them did. So I went through junior high that way. That is, until the day I forgot to wash my make-up off before coming home and told my mother that no, I was not wearing eyeliner - that line had been there since the day I was born. I remember a slap, her hollering something about having given birth to me and knowing every inch of my little Black body, and having to wait ANOTHER year before I could wear make-up.

And finally....

5. Low Rise Skinny Jeans - Plain and simple, our bodies are built differently. Black girls can't wear everything everybody else can. Well at least THIS Black girl can't. I learned this the hard way when my ass fell out while strolling through The Galleria. That was the quickest, and most necessary shopping trip EVER.

So there ya have it - my MeMe Monday on Tuesday. Bet you're wishin' I had those pics up aren't ya? Ha. Not in a million years suckers. I might wanna run for office or somethin' one day.

Ease My Guilt. Hire Me.

So, did ya hear the one about that one girl that got laid off from her job when she was 8 1/2 months pregnant? Yeah, it happened. And during the worst recession in decades. Oh. You didn't hear that one? Well put your ear to your computer speakers because I'm a'tellin.

Yessiree, that's me. Jobless Joan. Sitting at home, day after day, sending out resume after resume, practically throwing myself at the feet of the Lords of Industry. They point. They laugh. Sometimes they throw in a swift kick in the ribs for good measure. And then they move on to the next poor (and I do mean poor, as in holding onto those six tuna cans in the pantry because ya never know when you'll REALLY be in a crunch)shmuck to mock. Now don't get me wrong - I fully realize the opportunity I have been given over countless other moms out there. I have been able to spend every day of my daughters life with her. I am the first thing she sees in the morning, the last thing before she goes to bed, and every second in between. *sidenote: I now wonder if the "spit up" is from the formula and gas, or if she's just sick of seein' my mug every damn second of the day. Something to ponder.* The fact that I have been able to do that is indescribable. It's priceless. I'm living moments I will never have again with her. Days I can't get back - and that's pretty awesome. But really - how awesome is it if you have to beg the electric company not to turn off your lights because you have a newborn and you're unemployed and only have one income and you're doing your BEST to make ends meet, and the man on the other end of the phone says "Well ma'am, due to the recent heatwave we won't be turning off your electricity. I can give you seven more days." How awesome is it? It's not awesome at all when you realize that the fact that you have an infant isn't enough to keep your lights on - but the weather is.

I am receiving unemployment and for that I am grateful. I have a wonderful man who not only puts up with my tears, rants, raves, and all around neuroses since I'm home all day, AND works his butt off to bring home a decent check every week, and for HIM I am grateful. I have my health (kind of) and for that I am grateful. I have my daughter and for her, well there aren't enough words to say how grateful I am for her. I still have my house, my car, my utilities, and food in the fridge - and for all these things I am so very grateful. What I don't have is a job. A J-O-B. And truth be told, I feel damn guilty about it. I know it's not my fault I got laid off....but seriously - they couldn't have picked someone else to let go? I know that's a HORRIBLE thought but who lays off a woman about to give birth?? WHO DOES THAT?? IS THERE A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL/PURGATORY/MIDDLE EARTH for those people?

Anyway, as I was saying, I feel incredibly guilty for not having been able to find work yet (as if that's something I can control - remember "And Then God Laughed"?). I feel as though I have let my daughter down (though she is completely clueless to it - girl has the attention span of a gnat), my honey down (though he NEVER makes me feel bad about my situation and reminds me constantly that he loves me and he just wants me to be happy in whatever I do. I think that man should get some good lovin' tonight..that's pretty damn worthy of gettin' some), like I've let God down (but if he sees all and knows all then he planned this and HOPEFULLY has something A-MAZING lined up for me because surely he wouldn't bless me with this little girl and then hang us out to dry, right?)...basically I just kinda feel like I'm suckin' on a giant LIFE LEMON and there is no sugar to be found ANYWHERE, so makin' lemonade is a joke.

So, I put the call out to the blog world. I am a Social Worker. I am a writer. I am an Event Coordinator. I am a Community Outreach Expert. I am a wedding/party planner. I am the Public Relations QUEEN. I.AM.FOR.HIRE.

This Post Is Dedicated To M

*This will not be my usual post today ladies...


So before you go asking - NO...I DID NOT GIVE BIRTH TO ANOTHER WHITE BABY. But someone did. This beautiful little man belongs to my neighbor, and let me just tell you - there is a quite a story about how he got here. Let's just say he was a surprise to us all! Literally.

My neighbor had absolutely no idea she was pregnant until she woke up in the middle of the night with severe back pain, only to find out the cause was that she was in labor and 3 cm dilated. Within the next hour, this little guy came to be. TOTALLY unprepared and still in shock, her mom called me the next morning to tell me the news. If I were to tell you that my heart stopped for a moment I wouldn't be lying. I see her daughter every day. Her daughter watches my daughter. How did I miss it?? How did we ALL miss it?

Well regardless of how we all missed it and how he got here, he is HERE. While initially totally unprepared...well, never underestimate the goodness of family (born into and chosen). This little guy is off to a pretty good start. Someway, somehow, he made it into this world with no prenatal care - and is 100% healthy. 8lb 8oz of healthy!

I would be a fool if I didn't think there were little angels taking care of him from day one. Him and his mama. They are both supremely and infinitely blessed - and though it will be a tough row to hoe for this new, young mom....I think she knows that someone has been looking over her the last 9 months, so she will be just fine.

I firmly believe everything happens for a reason. It's no coincidence we live next door to each other. Her mom's father used to watch me after school in NYC (we live in TX now), but I had no idea her mother existed. It's no coincidence I had my baby when I did and she came over everyday to hang out with the munchkin - feeding her, changing her diapers, playing with her. It's really no coincidence that I had just pulled out a bunch of baby items to donate to Goodwill and they were already neatly packaged in my living room - I'd just been too lazy to go. It's really all NO COINCIDENCE. Everything happens for a reason. EVERYTHING.

Much love and MANY blessings to you M. And just know that even though at times it will seem ridiculously difficult, you have already made us all a bit wiser and stronger by allowing us to watch you, our baby, be a mommy to little T. We love you, we love you, WE LOVE YOU!

Stay Tuned

Hello Blog-o-nistas! I haven't abandoned my blog...I've just had a very eventful couple of days and am trying to wrap my brain around the appropriate words to post my next blog. All I can tell you is LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

Perhaps tomorrow my brain will figure out how to share my news....until then....love you all!

Old Pro vs. The Newbie

This posting has been started and stopped numerous times since Sunday. Do I post it? Do I not post it? What if family reads it? WHAT IF MY MOTHER READS IT?? Ugh....

So here I sit again, a full 12 hours AFTER I initially started this post this morning, and have resolved to just do it. I'm just going to put it out there and let people think what they want, let the chips fall where they may. Okay.

Relationships. Are. Hard.

I am (unfortunately) not yet married to my daughter's father, but we DO live together. Now before someone goes wagging their well manicured finger at me, just know that I am ALREADY filled with the guilt of a Catholic hooker missing Saturday afternoon mass. Despite all my quirkiness and willingness to blow caution to the wind time at any time, this is one way in which I am VERY traditional. I WANTED to be married before I had children, but it just didn't work out that way. Now don't get me wrong - I love this man with all of my heart and every fiber of my being. But there are definitely days I'd like to smother him with a pillow. Let me explain.

We (me and my honey) have a very interesting dynamic. We would do ANYTHING for eachother. We would do ANYTHING for our child. The thing is that while this is his third child, she is my FIRST. Naturally, as any first time mom, I worry incessantly. I worry if she's breathing. Is she not breathing? Is her breathing labored? Why does she sound that way? Is her skull forming okay? And countless other "new mommy" worries that I am SUPPOSED to have. I feel the responsibility to be her consummate 24 hour protection from THE WORLD. This feeling started the day the doctor confirmed her being in my belly. I am her mommy and for the rest of my life and hers I will worry. Don't tell my mother this because I play the "cool mom" role with her to keep HER worries at bay. But I do - I. WORRY. And I do so happily. However, this is where things start to go awry for my honey and me. This is his third time around the block so it is old news for him. He reminds me constantly that I worry too much, which drives me NUTS because HE-LLO!!! I'M A MOM!! THAT'S WHAT I DO!!

This difference (new mom vs. old pro) has led to many arguments, me saying "Would you just let me be a mom? Let me do what I do, damnit!", and occasionally wondering if there is any hope for US. Wondering if we will, in fact, get married within the next year or so. Now as I said before, I love this man and believe that he IS the one for me - but how do we make this work? We have different parenting styles - I'm very hands on, very maternal, and I question EVERYTHING and he is more of a 'go with the flow' and 'let's just wait and see' kind of dad. While on some levels I appreciate that because it DOES help me to just chill out and rethink some things, on many other levels, right now I just don't have it in me to be that way.

So what do we do? How do we make this work? How do we fix what (sometimes) seems to me is on the verge of breaking?

How do TWO different people become ONE great team?