You Can Learn A Lot From A Cold...

As you can see, it's late and I'm up, battling cold symptoms. That's one thing about colds: they totally take over your life and change how you go about business!
I'm no stranger to upper respiratory infections but my decision to tackle them, minus antibiotics has been tough. First of all, I'm tough as shoe leather when it comes to pain so I was up for the challenge but I must say, the thing that is always the most difficult to deal with is the physical sense of weakness. I'm winded. Walking across the floor makes my heart pound. I feel like I'm in slow motion.
At times, I feel weak.
But the thought came to me, "when I am weak, then I am strong". I know this is a slight variation of scripture but I'll explain. As a relatively young and healthy woman, my symptoms are significant and cause me to have to rest and move slowly, but they are all normal for a body doing what it was designed to do. "I will praise you o Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made", comes to mind. My fever has been as high as 101 but that too is also normal. Whereas my body appears to be weak, there's actually a rather elaborate and intense battle being waged against the invading bacteria (or virus) and my immune system. I feel tired but there's a part of my body that is constantly working, sending white blood cells out to attack the invading germ. I may feel sluggish, but there's nothing sluggish about my body temperature that keeps rising and falling to burn away the bacteria that do not belong there.
As I stated previously, you can learn a lot from a cold.
Lord knows I am. So I'm doing my best to send in reinforcements to help my body fight. I'm consuming vitamin C, eating fresh fruits and veggies, drinking liquids, sleeping, etc. There have been a couple of really intense days where I nearly broke down and called a doctor, particularly when my breathing became labored. But the key is to not panic when things get a little rocky. I remind myself that I am young and healthy. My body is doing what it was designed to do. The coughing expels the virus. The runny nose does the same. The fever has the germs in a pressure cooker.
Isn't God amazing?!
I know it's a little weird but I'm actually quite fascinated by this cold. I understand that we live in a fast paced society that only gives you 24 hrs to get over the flu, so that's why we practically drive our cars through the windows of our doctors offices. But the truth of the matter is that with a little discomfort (I've been taking ibuprofen to minimize any major discomfort) the human body was designed to heal itself.
I've also been doing warm salt water nasal flushes. Now THAT is the most unpleasant part. But once I saw what was actually making me so stuffy and contributing to my infection, I GLADLY continued. My sense of smell comes in and out but with the flushes, it relieves the sinus pressure.
So, it's going to take a little time. Upper respiratory infections can take as long as a month to completely clear, however most healthy adults are functional way before then. I'm no medical expert though. Don't sit at home with pneumonia because you claim I said so. No ma'am. No sir. lol! My family is monitoring my health and ask for a daily progress report. We all know that if certain symptoms persist or intensify, medical treatment will be sought. So, for those thinking I'm playing a dangerous game of chicken with my health, I'm not. I've dealt with such infections all my life and pretty much know how it goes. I just got tired of being prescribed antibiotics over and over and then dealing with those side effects! So I'm taking a more preventive, natural approach.
There is a great line of herbal tea called Yogi that I plan to review just as soon as I'm able to make it to EarthFare to buy it. It tastes like liquid dirt but will cure what ails you if you drink it several times a day. I've used it before but I don't have any on hand. But lesson learned. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, right? I decree and declare NOW that my household will make it through the winter healthy and strong. We will have a plan. We will support our immune systems. And what we can't do, GOD HIMSELF will do!
Night night to all my late night readers. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a much healthier day!

They Say I'm Angry...

They say I'm angry.
They say I'm always rolling my eyes, and snappin my fingers
Sucking my teeth and stomping my feet
They say I'm angry.
Never scared to fight
Earrings always unclasped
Ready to whoop somebody's ass-umption.
They tell me I'm angry.
They say I can't keep my own man and if I do get a man
I'll run him off and turn him into an international, multicultural man.
They say I'm angry.
My blood boils, my jaw's tight
I'm always looking and ready for a fight
I'll snatch off my weave and yours too
I'll put your business in the streets and his too
I can't be trusted
I don't work
I lay around and make babies that no one wants to raise
Including me.
They tell me I'm angry.
They call me b*tch and I agree.
I call my girlfriends by this name.
I guess I'm like a pitbull in heat
To them.
They tell me I'm angry
I've been so burned in the past that I've forgotten about my future
And that I unjustly hold the next man accountable for the last man's sins
But no one cares that when the last man was committing his sins
You were his best friend
You were his alibi and you supported his lies
You gave him rides
You let him hide
Out in your crib, your house with his other lady
But that's right
I was too busy being angry
To know this.
And if all of my sisters are angry
Then what does that make all of you brothers?
Co conspirators to a generational crime of neglect?
If all of my sisters are angry
Then what does that say of you, my neighbor?
If you took the time to talk to me
You wouldn't see anger
Just anger
Only anger
You'd see an ocean, no, a sea of emotions from me.
You'd see the woman I want to be yearning to be free
From bondage laid on my shoulders by my ancestry
And assumptions.
You'd see that I'm no different that any other woman on this earth
Tired of paying for the sins of Eve in every relationship I meet
Tired of being blamed for every societal woe
Tired of being a man's foe
I'm just like every other woman, who feels twenty pounds too heavy
Who feels blamed and accused
Who feels labeled and misused.
I started out thinking it was just about my brown skin.
But the truth of the matter is...
You have a problem
With the woman within.

"I'm Sorry"

The Diary Of a Baby Mama has officially hit its first milestone of 100 posts!
When I started this blog late last year, I didn't know where it would go. All I knew was that God was prompting me to write and that I must be obedient.
The wealth of wisdom, insight, and healing that has poured from these posts since I started has been amazing.
GOD is amazing.
Little becomes much when you place it in His hands.
So to mark my 100th post, I'm not going to be before you long (smile). I just want to encourage you to obey the voice of the Lord in your own life. Not everyone will understand and most times, you won't even see the full picture. But trust His leading. He's already been where you're about to go and He is FAITHFUL.

Here's to 100 more posts, 100 times more wisdom, insight revelation and healing.
To celebrate, here's a look back at a post that touched so many of you. It also happens to be one of my favorites. -Mel


Wars, divorces, family feuds, and split churches have all come about because one or more parties refused to utter these two simple words: "I'm sorry". I can't help but tell you how amazed I am by the power resident within those two words. I'm amazed at how many offenses I've personally been willing to remit simply because someone said them sincerely, and without delay. Still reeling from the blow or bleeding from the cut, I've heard my own voice say, "It's ok" or "that's alright, don't worry about it", all because someone said "I'm sorry".
Let me just be truthful here. The word "sorry" is something I'm quite familiar with. As a child, it was a requirement and it was demanded of us. If you offended either or both of my parents at any time, an "I'm sorry" was required. I know how to apologize as a subordinate. What I wasn't as familiar with was watching those in authority over me exercise this same ability to utter these two simple words.


What does it do to a child to see a parent who refuses to apologize when they know (and God too) that they were clearly in the wrong, and not the child? What does it do to a child who sees a parent ignore their own guilt and instead punish them?


Well since we're all being so honest here, I'll tell you what it does, from my perspective. It undermines the very foundation of respect that a parent works so hard to build. When a parent refuses to apologize, it sets up an impression in a child's mind that authority operates without accountability and respect for those under the power of their authority.


Oh, and that's another new word that I'd like to introduce to this conversation: RESPECT.


That's a word that I grew up understanding. Respect was demanded when it could not be commanded. Respect was a serious matter and the lack of it was a sign of defiance.


But what does it tell a child when they must respect but be disrespected?
What does it say to children who must reverence authority that has so little regard for them?


Respect has never been the issue in most of our lives. It is MUTUAL respect that causes us to stumble.


It never occurred to some of us that mutual respect was both appropriate, needed and GODLY. Parents respecting their children? Wow.What a peculiar concept!


But it's something that I'm learning daily that is vital to both natural and spiritual productivity.


Last night, I had a decision to make. As a mother, I was within my "motherly rights" to correct my daughter. She had disobeyed me and after repeated (usually 2-3 times) demands on my part that she stop what she was doing, I reacted in a way that I knew was not right.
Now, let me just say this for the benefit of all readers and mommies for whom I am particularly burdened. There are many things that we have the "right" to do as parents. Our cultures condone it. Our family backgrounds endorse it and even our relatives insist on it. But one thing I must say is that as a woman BRAND NEW to the world of parenting; no babysitting experience, no small children in my company, no nieces or nephews, the knowledge I do have regarding parenting came solely from God Almighty. And I must say, He's done a FINE JOB of guiding me in the way that I should go with raising them. But last night,I transgressed against Him. My culture, my society and my parenting 101 books all backed me up in my response to my daughter. But my spirit was grieved.
After about 10 minutes, I went back into my childrens' room, picked Caitlyn up out of her crib and held her. I told her in her ear, "I'm sorry. Mommy's sorry". Soon Matthew crawled out of his bed, and I apologized to him too. I apologized to him because he was a witness to mommy responding inappropriately to his sister's bad behavior. He said, "It's ok mommy". And immediately my mind went back to the love I had and have for my parents. Despite their flaws, as a child, they were my biggest heroes. Despite their bad days with short tempers, I loved them. When they calmed down and were in a better mood, I loved them. It was ok because even though their words may not have said, "I'm sorry", their next hug was enough for me.


But what a gift it is to say the words.


I want my children to know that authority is not an iron fist but a warm wing of safety. I want them to know that they are respected. Should a three year old and four year old child be respected? Absolutely, before they were in my womb, they were in the presence of Almighty God. I am their earthly mother but He is their Heavenly Father, as He is mine. And one day, their love and devotion will return to Him, as it should.
God doesn't rule us with fear, but with His unfailing love. We don't believe that love has the ability to correct, to chasten and to instill. I see the look in my son's eyes when he feels he has disappointed me and how he breathes a little sigh of relief when he comes tentatively for a hug and I take him in my arms, no punishment attached. Grace and mercy. What an abiding gift that is presented to us new every morning by our Heavenly Father and is given to us to share with our fellow man.
It wasn't common or even recommended that those in authority apologize to those beneath them in my life. It would undermine their position and eat away at their authority like termites.


 But little did we know that it wasn't the words "I'm sorry" that exposed our foundations to decay but our inability to confess our faults one to another.


Mommy isn't always right. Some decisions are bad. Some comments need to be stricken from the record. Some actions need to be acknowledged and atoned for. But it amazes me every time I hear the words "It's OK" after the words "I'm sorry" are extended.
There are those in my circle of influence who do not agree with the way I parent my children. They believe I should take a more heavy handed approach. Meanwhile, I'm anxious to see and to hear exactly what gift these two unique spiritual beings bring to the world with their presence. That is the mutual respect I'm talking about. They have a destiny to fulfill, just like I do. And even though I'm 32 yrs in and they're only 3 and 4 yrs in, it doesn't make their assignment any less significant than mine.
Understanding that parenting is one of the most challenging assignments there is can be half the battle. Doing what is right for your child or children may put you at odds with years of family traditions and sentiments. But that is the calling. Embrace it.


Prayer Point: Father, help us to understand how grace and mercy operate to our advantage as parents and to not be afraid to extend it to our children, as you so freely extend it to us. Help us to respect our children as gifts from you and souls that you have given into our care temporarily as you guide them to their destiny and purpose in You. May we understand that our authority is not a dictatorship but a responsibility to seek You first and relay Your instructions to those You've placed under us. May we walk in love and hold in high esteem and trust the love and devotion of our chldren to us.

The Safety Zone...

We are creatures of habit and most of us would be completely lost if even the slightest deviation happened to our daily routine. As a mom, I'm used to operating under a constant level of stress and pressure. I haven't been completely relaxed since my last epidural. Ever since I became aware of my new responsibility as a parent, I've been running on 10 ever since.
Parenting isn't for wimps my friends and it certainly isn't for the selfish people of the world either.
So yea, I know what it's like to feel pressure and have to perform while it's getting hotter and tighter all around me.
I know what it's like to have two cases of stomach flu to deal with all at one time. Well, it would really be three cases, if I counted myself but I didn't because my symptoms had to be shelved for their sake.
I know what it's like to be tired but unable to sleep. I know what it's like to work a 12 hour shift with less than two hours of sleep.
I know what a lot of things are like.
But there's one thing that I've learned over the years that's so very important.

Everyone need a safety zone.

Everyone should have a place they can go and call a time-out.
I'm not saying that I have circumstances which afford me the opportunity to drop everything and attend to my own needs. But I thank God that I do have authentically loving friends and family around me who wouldn't ignore me if I said, "Hey gang. I'm on the ledge and I really don't know how much more I can take".
I can't tell you how vital that is.
There are so many people who know they can't say that to anyone. They feel as if they're the heartbeat of so many people's lives. If they quit, then the whole operation falls apart.
I had to learn really quickly that taking a break is far less devastating than leaving the field of play altogether.
:Last year, I battled a severe case of vertigo. It came out of nowhere. I woke up one morning feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous and before I knew it, I was almost completely immobile. I immediately saw my family doctor and a specialist. I took everything they prescribed. Nothing really worked. I could barely dress myself. I looked like I was drunk when I walked. I couldn't drive my children to preschool.
I was shutting down.
So what happened?
Did the world come to an end? Did everyone stop functioning because I couldn't help myself, much less them?
No.
My mom stepped up in a phenomenal way. She helped me get dressed. She dressed the children. She did everything I couldn't do around the house. She saw that I needed help and she helped me.
I realize that not everyone lives in a multi-generational household like I do but there's still a lesson to be learned.

There is help if you need it.

It took me getting to the point where I couldn't physically do anything for myself to realize that I have so many loving people around me who were more than willing to help if I'd only allow them to.
It was and still is a bit hard for me to accept help. However, it's not as difficult as it used to be. Anything that can get me back in the game, healthy, strong and whole, I'm all for it now.
And that's what help does.
It gets you back in the game and helps you heal.
I still have a lot on my plate. Most of it gets eaten in a day, but a lot of it doesn't.
I'm not trying to win any contests or competitions anymore. I'm just trying to do what I can and make the most of every moment of my life. I want my children to have all of me, not just the part that they see in the rear view mirror as we speed our way through life, completely consumed with this activity or that.
Don't get me wrong. Activities are good. However, having enough time to read a bedtime story complete with dramatizations is priceless to me.
Everyone needs a place they can go and tell the truth. I know that I have someone I can be transparent with and tell, "Hey, I don't feel like a good mom today" and not be judged. I can talk to someone and tell them that my plate is too full and they'll be honest with me and tell me what needs to get scraped off IMMEDIATELY. I have people I can be real with. I have people that will listen. No, it's not a whole multitude of people...
But when you're at the end of your rope...
All you really need is one helping hand.

Thanks to everyone who is a part of my safety zone. You know who you are and I love you for it.

Big Waste Of Time...

I might ruffle a few feathers with this post, but I don't mind. Once you hit your 30's, you get a little tired of being censored and decide if everyone else can have an opinion, so can you. Another good thing about being my age is that it causes you to really assess your life and your management of time. I've been in several relationships of varying levels of commitment, with two taking up a combined 13 years of my life. Now, that may not sound like much time, but I'm only 33 years old. Add another 3 years to that number and I would have spent half my lifespan in relationships that went nowhere.
So what have I concluded from my makeshift research efforts?

BOYFRIENDS ARE THE BIGGEST WASTE OF A SINGLE WOMAN'S TIME.

Now before I get emails, comments, and notes, let me clarify my statement.
I'm not saying that friendships with the opposite sex are a waste of time. But let's face it. True friendships don't come to an end, even if romance was or wasn't ever a part of the equation. I'm not friends with ONE boyfriend that I had in the past. That's not to say that I haven't had contact with an ex, but as far as them holding any significant or beneficial place in my life right now? Absolutely not. Of all the things I could have been doing as a single woman with no children back then, I chose to spend the lion's share of my time pining, chasing, arguing, and otherwise striving with a boyfriend. When I say there was so much more I could have been doing with my life, I'm not kidding. For starts, I could have traveled abroad. I could have volunteered in my community. I could have poured myself into mentorship. I could have hit the gym and lost that nagging fifty extra pounds.Let me say that again. I could have been taking care of ME!!  But instead, I gave 13 years of non-refundable time to boyfriends.
Not friends..
Not husbands.
Not men.
BOYFRIENDS.
I think younger women, particularly those in their late teens and early twenties should beware of this time wasting monster called "boyfriend". He takes up your time, emotions, and thoughts but when it's all said and done, what is there to show for this heavy investment of time and effort? Is there a real future with this person? Is there a true friendship involved? Would the relationship survive if sex was taken off the table? If the answer's "no", then I'm sad to say that your time has been wasted.
But let's face it. When I was a teenager and a young adult, all I wanted (besides my sister's sense of style) was a boyfriend. It was just good to know that someone besides my mom thought I was pretty and wanted to spend time with me. I didn't really put much value on friendship because girls who wanted to be just friends weren't getting guys. Guys wanted someone they could sleep with or mess around with.
And that's all fine and good until you look up ten, eleven and twenty years later and realize you just had your time wasted by a hollow relationship status called "boyfriend" that didn't even afford you the benefit of a lasting and loving friend.
What good is a relationship that isn't a friendship?
It's a waste of time. When you're going through a tough time and you need someone to talk to, there's nothing like realizing the person you're sleeping with can't even be confided in. If he can see you naked but can't ever know your real feelings, your time is being wasted.
I'm not blaming anyone for my time being wasted in the past because our time is ours to manage, whether wisely or foolishly. But I will say that now that I'm 33, I have absolutely no interest in a boyfriend. Will this revelation no doubt scare off a legion of eligible bachelors? It's possible, but I'll take my chances. Friendship is where the real hard work lives. Your friends are the ones who help you when you have the flu, loan you $100 between paydays and sit and cry with you all night long when your heart is broken. Friends are the ones who know what your dreams and fears are and can be trusted with your deepest secrets. That's not necessarily covered under the "boyfriend" package.
Sure, this means I probably won't have a handsome guy to take pictures with and post to my facebook page as well as go out to dinner with. I'm willing to make that sacrifice. I know now that relationships are built, not imagined on social sites. I'd rather have someone who will let me share my dreams with him instead of someone who only wants to tag me in a photo.

Boyfriends are a waste of time.
But friendships are worthy investments.

Matthew's First Day of School!

I survived! I mean, WE survived. lol! Matt had a wonderful first day of school today. Let me start by saying our great God does all things WELL! February of 2010, I felt the leading of the Lord to take Matt & Cait out of the care of their aunt on their father's side. This was met with much opposition and pretty much spelled the end of my relationship with their father. He took this move personally instead of seeing it as I saw it. This move was for the benefit of his two children. Matt was barely talking and most certainly wasn't talking clearly enough to be understood. He didn't know his letters, numbers, or colors, but he knew every tv show known to man. I was a single mom, hard at work to make the ends meet. Their aunt was inexpensive child care but my two children were paying the price.
I endured being cursed out and fought with to get my children away from her. But here we are, 18 months later. My son Matthew began kindergarten today! When I enrolled him into St. Andrews Child Development Center, along with his sister last June, I didn't know what to expect.
What I soon gained was two brand new children.
Within three months time, both were talking clearly and Matt was even beginning to learn how to write. A year later, he can count to 20, knows all of his colors, shapes, and letters.
To GOD be the glory!
The decision to put him in a daycare was probably one of the toughest parenting decisions I had to make to date. I put myself at odds with his father and his father's entire family just to do what I felt the Lord wanted me to do. I didn't know back then that the sacrifice I was making then would reap such an abundant harvest.
This morning as I drove Matt to school, I affirmed him and told him he was going to have a great day at school today. Then I said to him, "You know what? Let's pray". I began to pray aloud and I glanced back to the back seat. There was my precious boy with his hands clasped to his chest and eyes closed, in prayer.

He learned that at St. Andrews.

In that single moment, all of the pain and tears I went through to get him to this moment in time were worth it. I  realized that the same God who assured me that I would have a son and to not worry about how I would care for him was the SAME God who had faithfully brought us to this milestone in his life.
His father walked through the door of the school and I almost burst into tears when I saw him run into his dad's arms. For all of our drama, past and present, what a blessing it was for us to be able to lay aside our differences long enough to celebrate our son's big day.
I'm eternally grateful to Marc for that.

We helped him settle into his new class room and waved good bye to him. He was very nervous, so nervous that he wouldn't eat breakfast. But I knew by the end of the day, that wonderfully personable spirit of his would make plenty of new friends and overcome any nervousness.
He proudly proclaims, "I'm a big kid now".
Yes he is. He's a big brother to his baby sister, and a kindergarten student of Greenville County. He's well on his way to being 10 times more successful than his mom or dad.
He's well on his way to being everything God created him to be.
I've got my work cut out for me though. There's forms to fill out and supply lists to double check. And let's not forget the homework. But we're in this together and God is with us, as He has always been.
We're off to a great start so far.
And we'll finish strong!

Big Ol' Cry Baby...

I wasn't always this way. I was the kid who could take a lickin and not even whimper. I was the one with the high pain tolerance. It took a lot to break me down and reduce these big, brown eyes to tears.
That was then, and this is now.
Now, I find myself crying a lot. When I see something moving on tv, hear a testimony, hear a song...
I cry.
And I'm not talking about just welling up. I'm talking about big ol' tear drops running down my face.
At first, I was a little concerned about this emotional transformation of mine. I've even jokingly said, "I've turned into Jan Crouch!" who almost always cries at one point or another when she's on TBN.
I didn't understand it then, but I do now.
I have so much more compassion in my heart now than I did then.
I love people more.
I love myself more.
I love God more.
I'm moved more.
So as frustrating as it can be to explain why on earth I'm crying while watching a simple story on the news, I just let the tears flow and gently wipe them away.
You see, I've had my heart broken a few times in 33 years. But that didn't make it hard.
It made it tender.
I'm thankful to God that in spite of everything I've been through and those who put me through it, my soul still can feel. I still care. I still can love, laugh, and cry.
 Tears of compassion.
Tears of sorrow...
And tears of joy.
Thank you Lord for making me a big ol' cry baby.
Amen.

I'm A Good Tired...

*Note to self*  No matter how cute the outfit, please refrain from wearing 4 inch wedges to a toddler birthday party Miss Mel. lol!
Needless to say, I'm worn completely out! I packed a pair of comfy shoes in my purse but I was so busy, I didn't even have a chance to slip them on. Although my back and knees are now voicing their displeasure, the kids and I had a great time at their cousin Nadia's 2nd birthday party. She is a cousin on their father's side. It's amazing to me how many families have embraced me over the years as if I were their own. I find that to be a wonderful characteristic of southern families. At the end of the day, most figure somehow or another, we're all related in some sense and they welcome you into their homes and hearts accordingly.

This was quite possibly the last birthday party of the summer for Matt and Cait and certainly that last one before school starts. Back to school...*sigh* I've been suffering from a moderate to severe case of denial and procrastination regarding Matt's first day of kindergarten. School starts this coming Wednesday and we meet his teacher Monday. I would say the obligatory, "I aint ready!" but now that we've reached panic mode, the need for such a comment seems unnecessary. lol! He's going to absolutely love school and I'm going to devote an entire blog entry to the milestone, don't you worry.
Right now, I am unbelievably relaxed. I'm feeling that "good tired" feeling, you know what I mean? It's that tired that lets you know that you could actually get some decent deep sleep. The only thing keeping me up right now is my desire to blog. Typically, I don't write very much on the weekends. It's an unintentional habit.
I want to thank those of you again who read my thoughts. I can't tell you how much it means to me.
Lastly, before I retire for the night, I'll tell you about two other components of my weekend. I viewed almost the entire session of Manpower again this year online. I watched last year also and it was amazing then and now. I know I'm a woman and all but I LOVE the preached Word of God and the speakers this year were BANANAS! I couldn't help but remember that I was in a relationship briefly with a guy who attended Manpower last year and he called me constantly and sent me pictures of The Potter's House.I had a nasty case of bronchitis and he asked me if I wanted him to fly to Dallas or stay and come to see me. Aww... I know, right? lol! Too bad that relationship crashed before it even made it to the end of the runway. I wondered if he had made the trip again this year. Apostle Ron Carpenter, founder of Redemption World Outreach here in Greenville, SC preached his first ever Manpower message this year. It was AMAZING! He spoke about the four components of the anointing, one of which is bitterness. It's well worth getting the cd. Outstanding. I was so proud to be a Greenvillian.
Last but surely not least in my eclectic world was my run in with the clearance rack of shoes (AGAIN) at Target. Good LORD! That's where the four inch gold toned wedges came from. I took at picture of them but the lighting was terrible and I just don't feel like doing a re-take. As I stated before, I'm a good tired. lol!
But I did manage to capture the detail on a pair of thong sandals I snagged for a little over $6.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! It's like having a brooch on both feet! I saw these sandals early Spring in a print ad and drooled over them. I wanted them so badly but wasn't willing to pay close to $30 for them. Because of my patience, I'm now the owner of these beauties (in size 11) and will be sure to WRECK the summer of 2012 in them. I'm already having visions of a short black summer dress or even a long maxi dress. For me, it's all about details. I'm not the most fashion savvy woman there is but when I see something I like, I wear it. Sometimes that works for me, and sometimes it doesn't. I also tried a new hairdo today that took me a little bit out of my comfort zone. To my surprise I received a ton of compliments which just goes to show that just because something stretches you, doesn't mean it's bad for you.  It's been a great day.
Tomorrow will be filled with the Word of God in the morning and cleaning up this house! Sheesh. Then I'll receive my little ones again and start preparing them for school. Last weekend's drop off was a near disaster and their father and I haven't said two words to each other since.It's like we're in a competition to see who can say the least to the other and still get a point across. I'm just tired of immature drama. I'm 33 years old. It's time to move on to BETTER. I fully intend to have what I decree and believe. And I believe AND decree that I will have a loving husband, a strong marriage and a solid family. Drama is made for audiences and I for one sure won't be attending.

A Touch Of Gray...

It's every woman's nightmare. My age has never been that big of a deal to me. After all, I've been a "young person" all my life! Getting older was so far off in the distance, I guess I assumed it wasn't there. But a few things happened that put getting older on my horizon: I had children. My mother turns 60 this year. I'm finding silver and white strands of hair in my combs & brushes. There's no huge Jay Leno patch yet. For the most part, no one even knows I'm starting to show my age.
But I do.
Thirty three is still quite young but it's not as forgiving as 23. I get tired. It takes me longer to recover from things. Some things are better, like my attitude and mood. But some things are worse, like my extremely cold feet and hands. I'm not in a panic yet. I'm in no hurry to run out and purchase a spot at the local mausoleum, but time definitely is starting to speak a little more loudly and firmly.
Get moving on your goals.
Get moving on your dreams.
Take care of yourself.
Stay focused.
I don't know how much time the Lord has allotted me here on this earth.
These silvery warning flags are reminding me that however long it is, I must maximize them.
I want my latter to be greater.

I want to earn every gray hair I have and have fun while doing it.
When I am considered old, I want to still be considered relevant.
That's a tall order to fill...

I guess I better get started, huh?

South Carolina's Tax-Free Weekend Haul

I am sooo excited about having a moment to myself! Those insiders of mine know I literally fought to get it today, but the kiddos made it safely to their dad's house and are so far still with him. On my way back home from the drop off, I swung by Target. I don't know you guys...there's something about that gigantic red BULLS EYE that draws distressed shoppers in need of retail therapy in like moths to a flame! Before I knew it, my four truck tires were in a parking space. It didn't take me long to see plenty of great deals:

These size 11 cute wedges were only $12.48 on clearance! You know us bigfoots can't find cute shoes for this price! Can't wait to come up with a really clever outfit to put these beauties on display!

Please forgive the lighting. I'm not photog...just an excited shoe lover. lol! Snagged this camel toned wedges for the tune of $13.98! With their suede-like soles, they are extra comfy on the tootsies.

The fairest of them all...my bejeweled flats. These were only $12.48 on the clearance rack. For all of those who thought I'd only rock a heel, here's the evidence to the contrary. I respect all heel heights, as long as they're cute! That's my only fashion advice for flats. Make sure they're saying something! When people get down to your feet, give them a little sparkle and detail. I promise you that you won't feel so plain and dowdy even if you're in no mood for 4 inch heels!

The sole of article clothing that I purchased for myself (I almost asked a sales associate to grant me permission to buy myself a dress) was this navy and camel striped dress! Oh my, oh my. If I had a husband, boyfriend, or even just a good friend who'd hold a camera steady, you'd see that I KILL in this dress. My mom said, "I wish I had legs like that.", but was sure to suggest, for the Pentecostal in her, that I pair this dress with leggings. I got your leggings mama and they're calls MY BROWN SKIN! lol! I should have had this dress 2 months ago. Every women is entitled to one dress per season that makes her feel like a million bucks. This dress gives it to me! I feel like a 33 year old, sophisticated mommy in this, instead of a plus sized tent. I'd pair this with the camel colored sandals if I were trying to dress it down When fall comes, I could grab a  navy or camel colored cardigan with this and KILL. This dress will definitely be used quite often. 

I copped one dress and three pairs of shoes for myself on tax free weekend for the sum of $56.93! Not bad at all for a plus sized mama!

And you know I couldn't leave my babies out. Target is by FAR my favorite store for all of my children's clothing needs. I have nothing against Wal-Mart. There Geranimals clothing line is the best. However, you can't beat Target's Circo clothing line for boys and girls. I got Matt & Cait three outfits a piece. In all, my total bill was $108. How fantastic is that?! It would have been lower had I not thought of myself...*sigh* but I talked myself down off the ledge and decided to do something nice for ME this weekend! Thanks for sharing in my haul folks

I'll leave you with a few pics of a couple of my favorite pieces currently in my closet..Whatever you do, be creative, mix & match, and be patient!

My "go-to" dress of Summer 2011! Great color, flirty length and detail.

It's all in the details! Delicate bibbed crochet work and a crisscross back...killed it!

A couple of my favorite statement rings. I love bling. No one cares about real or fake anymore. It's about how  the light catches the accessories. Don't be afraid to choose what you feel is pretty, whether it's real or not.

Not sure if I've shown these already, but if I have, please forgive me.. Had every intention of rocking these this Spring or Summer but it never happened. Here's another fashion tip from Mel: you're building your fashion house, one piece at a time. When you choose good pieces with a great design, they'll last for years! These shoes are close to two years old.

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Reckless Driver

We've seen him or her before. That person who has a blatant disregard for most traffic laws. We've all been in the car a time or two with the person who drove like a bat out of hell and when we arrived to our destination, had us kissing the ground in gratitude.
When I was in high school, right around my junior year, my school was rocked by the unexpected deaths of three popular students after a football game. The driver was a jock who was known for joking around in class and being the guy everyone wanted to hang around. He was also a notorious reckless driver. He drove at break neck speeds often and for the most part, had little incident until that one fateful night.
About four people were in the car, all of them I knew to some degree. After the football game, the driver offered to give his three other friends a ride home. He pulled out of the school's parking lot and headed to a popular street called "Verdae Blvd". Verdae is a long stretch that deceivingly allows a driver to get up to speed on at least a half mile's worth of straightaways. The only problem is that side streets are accessible to Verdae. The driver made his way onto Verdae and made the decision to take his passengers on a high speed ride. Unfortunately, about a quarter mile into his joy ride, an elderly man made it to Salters Road, a side street that intersected with Verdae. Just as he made his decision to cross, my classmate crashed into him.
Four people lost their lives that night: the driver, and two of his passengers. Only one person in the car survived but he suffered severe brain injury and never played football again. The elderly driver was also killed.
When I hear the term "reckless driving" my mind immediately goes back to that incident which sent my entire school into a period of deep mourning.

But what about the reckless drivers who get behind the wheel of our hearts?
How many times have we allowed the unstable, the selfish, the abusive, and the unappreciative to come into our lives, hop behind the wheel and take our lives on a deadly joy ride?
How many times have we allowed a heart breaker to add us to his list of victims?
On how many occasions have we maintained a friendship with her even though she was never a friend to us?
You don't have to be a speeder to be a reckless driver, although that's definitely the most common type. All you have to do is be a person who ignores the rules and doesn't respect others who are on the road with you.
That's all it takes.
The same applies to our lives.
You don't have to be noticeably reckless to be a reckless driver. All you have to do is be disrespectful of others and ignore the rules of protocol when they apply. Some things just shouldn't be said and some things just shouldn't be done when you claim to love and care for someone. If you break those rules, you are reckless. And if you're reckless, nobody should be in the car with you.
Reckless driving causes accidents and death in motor vehicles.
Reckless drivers of the heart have caused deaths of relationships, self esteem and destiny.
He says you're his woman, but two or three other women make the same claim.
She says she's your friend but whenever you need her, she's not around.
She's always calling you needing something, but never seems to have time to do anything but pick up the money you let her "borrow".
He refuses to wear a condom because he says it feels better when he's with you. He'll be careful, he says, and won't give you a disease or get you pregnant.
You confide in her but listen to her tell everyone else's business. You think she's not doing your business the same way when you're not around?

Don't put reckless folks behind the wheel of your heart.
Only safe drivers.

Nursing School...Sorta.

It occurred to me after reading an article on BlackandMarriedWithKids.com that I'd neglected to share my own personal journey in the world of breastfeeding.

By the time Caitlyn came along, just 19 short months after the birth of her brother Matthew, I thought I was a pro at breastfeeding.
BOY WAS I WRONG!
I learned so much from the experience, both its high's and lows. I'll do my best to recap my breastfeeding journey with my babies and offer some helpful insights in the process.

If you're thinking about breastfeeding, here's some of the things you need to know and be prepared for:
It is work!
Breastfeeding is not for whimps! It can be a challenge and my overly hormonal self shed many tears along the way. That's normal and to be expected. Just be prepared that formula feeding is definitely easier than breastfeeding but far less beneficial. They are not the same, in ANY way.

Here's the truth: Neither of my children nursed 100% of the time.
That's right, I said it. Breastfeeding is a learning process for both mommy and baby and guess what? Learning takes time and not everyone learns at the same rate of speed. Just because YOU'RE ready for baby to nurse, doesn't mean that he or she will. Accept this as normal also. The first month is the toughest for breastfeeding moms and babies. I had no idea in the beginning that babies had to actually "learn" how to suck. I thought we were all born knowing how to do that! Folks, I had a lot to learn. lol!

Think of formula as training wheels. 
As I tried to prepare my babies to nurse, they weren't always successful so they were formula fed the first few days of their life. When my milk came in (that's right... milk comes in and it's quite a sight when it does...yikes. lol!) When moms initially start lactating, they don't produce enough milk for baby. Our bodies have to be trained. So what I'd do is express or "pump" as much milk as I could and mix it with formula. Eventually, as I continued pumping, my body kicked into gear and gradually, I was producing enough milk to totally do away with formula.

You must have support!
I don't know what I would have done without the nurses at St. Francis Women's Hospital! They were very supportive and knowledgeable. Also, it helps tremendously to know other fellow mommies who have walked down the same 2 a.m. feeding road. Their knowledge and encouragement is PRICELESS!

You MUST take care of yourself!
Unlike with formula feeding, it's all about baby... sorta. I personally think formula smells worse than swill that even a hog wouldn't swig, but that's just me. But when it comes to nursing, mommy you're the supplier so you have to stay healthy. For me, that meant eating right, abstaining from foods that could irritate baby's tummy (spicy foods, onions and sometimes garlic, and certain medications) and staying hydrated. A nursing mom can express as much as 18 or more ounces of milk per day. In the picture above, Caitlyn has an 8 oz bottle. Doesn't she look happy?! lol! There are some mothers who are completely against any bottle feeding whatsoever. I say do what works for you and baby. I'd rather a baby be bottle fed breast milk all their baby life than given synthetic formula.
That's just me though...

Don't forget daddy. 
With Matthew and Caitlyn's dad, nursing was completely new ground. He'd never seen it done and for some reason, he and his family had reservations about my decision to breastfeed. But just like I chose both my children's names, I chose their method of nutrition. After he saw my commitment to breastfeeding, he eventually came on board. For a guy, he was actually quite understanding. I didn't hide the nursing process from him. It was difficult some days, and he got to see the best and the worst of it. I can recall having to nurse in the backseat of my truck on more than one occasion on family outings. lol!  When I had leaking accidents, he didn't tease me. He didn't freak out when it was time to express milk or nurse and he was willing to give them their bottles when spending time with them. Sometimes, all it takes is being introduced to something new to realize that it's not all that bad or impossible to do.
There's so much more I could share about breastfeeding but time won't allow. Overall, it was one of the most difficult but rewarding experiences of my mothering life. I had to think outside of the box many of occasions. But I can say with sincerity that God was with me every step of the way. He put mothers in my path who would support me with knowledge and answer my questions. He gave my manager at the time compassion for me which allowed me to take as many unscheduled nursing breaks as I needed throughout the day.
My biggest piece of advice is this...

God is with you mom.

If you make a commitment for the good of your child, God WILL make a way for you. Your provision may not come as mine did but I guarantee you, He will make a way somehow! I always had a clean, safe place to nurse. There were times I could even leave work to nurse my babies in my arms. God was with me.
And as He was with me, so shall He be with you!

Do I Have To Ask?

I don't like asking for help. I don't know too many moms or women for that matter who enjoy doing so. Most modern day women pride themselves on being relatively self sufficient and able to survive without having to ask a ton of people for help. It's not like many of us have had pleasant experiences in the area of asking. Let's keep it real. When you think of all the times you didn't ask for something you knew you needed, what was the biggest reason for doing so? Most likely, the reason that shines the brightest is the negative response you got when you did ask someone for something you needed or wanted.
Let me introduce you to two people who do not mind asking a million questions and requesting a million things every single day: my two children.
Funny thing about it is that when it's something they really, truly want with all their little beings, they don't let up.
They don't disappear on the first no.
They don't stop asking because of disappointment.
They wait a while, then come right back and ask again.
A typical day in my household goes like this:
*Fifteen minutes after breakfast* Caitlyn: Mommy can I have a snack?
Me: No Caitlyn.
Caitlyn: Why?
Me: You just ate!
*Ten minutes later...*
Caitlyn: Mommy, can I have a snack?
Me: No Caitlyn.
Caitlyn: WHY??!
Me: Because you just ate.

*Another ten minutes goes by...*
Caitlyn: Mommy, can I have a snack?
Me: No Caitlyn.
Caitlyn: BUT I'M HUNGRY!!!!!
Me: What do you want?
Caitlyn: Can I have gummies?
Me: How about a poptart?
Caitlyn: OK!
*Off she goes with her prize...*
I do believe God handles His children (you and I) much the same way. He whispered into my mind a day or so ago, "When you want something that you're not entitled to or that someone never intended for you, you must insist and persist".
Makes total sense if you look over the example of the dialogue I just had with Cait.
Her objective was to get a snack.
I had no intention of giving her a snack at that moment because it was not TIME for her to eat again.
But her persistence created a new season for her called "SNACK TIME".
Oh, y'all don't want me to preach on this here blog!!
So what does that say to you and I?
The Word of God says in Matthew 7 "Ask and it shall be given you; seek and ye shall find. Knock and the door shall be opened unto you".
I would never want to deprive my child of any good thing. There have been times she asked me for something that I was unwilling to give her. Same goes for her brother. But when what either of them asks me for is something that I know isn't good for them, I almost always present them with two things: my counter offer and an opportunity to ask for something else!
If that doesn't jump start your faith today, I don't know what will.
When you ask God for things, don't despair when it seems as if His answer is no. Persist in prayer. Persist when you know the thing you desire is something He'd be willing to give you. I won't give my children anything to eat if they aren't hungry. However, if they persist in asking for something to eat, I will give it to them because I am more than willing and ABLE to meet that need for them.

WOOHOO!
So, I challenge every reader to ask more, persist more, and believe that God is able and WILLING to grant your petition!

Leaving the Place Called Bitterness...

Let's face it. We've all had something to be bitter about. Whether it's being lied to, cheated on, a bad break up, divorce, or any type of wrongdoing. We've all been residents of a place called bitterness before.
Some of us have dealt with bitterness towards our parents and family members. Some were abused, neglected, and even victims of heinous crimes. Some people watched others destroy their lives, hopes and dreams.
Some people discovered that the people that they thought they knew were never those people at all.
As you can see, Bitterness has plenty of room and places to stay.
I was watching a Dr. Phil show this morning about two individuals who were seeking to confront their parents for wrongs that they'd done. One lady's mother took her on the run for two years. The mother claimed it was because the father was molesting the daughter. The daughter denied this had ever happened and she wanted a chance to tell her mother the damage she'd done and to hear her remorse for taking her through that difficult period of time. The second guest was a man who witnessed his father shoot and kill his mother at the age of 12 years old. While his father maintained that it was accidental, the son recounted his father saying to his mother "I'll kill you if you try to leave". He was also the one his father used to lure his mother back into the house where she was shot.
Both stories were tough to hear, and I'm sure, even tougher to live through.
But I noticed something similar in both stories.
Here's the thing that we don't get when we're carrying bitterness against someone for years and years on end.
The other person is oblivious to our burden.
People who hurt other people aren't thinking about other people! Other people's emotions, feelings, circumstances and comfort doesn't even cross their minds. It wasn't about the people they hurt then, so that probably won't change in 30 years.
What's my point?
Few will ever adequately acknowledge their transgressions against you and even if they do, there is little, if anything that they can do to right the wrong.
So guess what?
Bitterness is a CHOICE.
You can't always choose what happens to you and who does it, but you can decide if you will continue to hold on to it and let it infect every aspect of your life.
Here's the thing about bitter people that needs to be stressed. When you come across a bitter, mean and angry person, you really don't care what their story or their pain is.
Yep, that's right I said it.
No one really cares WHY someone is bitter.
The reason is because bitter people unfortunately become perpetrators themselves. People who have done you no harm or no wrong suddenly find themselves subjected to your negativity and your foul attitude. There may be a reason behind your foul nature, but when someone, who had nothing to do with it, finds themselves having to deal with it, that reason suddenly makes no difference.
Bitterness is deceptive. It is a real emotion but it is an unfair one. It doesn't care who did what to you. It treats EVERYBODY like the one person or group of persons who did you wrong.
That's the difference between people who are bitter and people who learn how to forgive.
Forgiveness doesn't necessarily heal the hurt. But what it does is assign the fault and its debt to the right person.
It's not my future husband's fault that I didn't grow up feeling loved.
My best friend didn't neglect me.
Bitterness gives everyone a bill they didn't create and demands a payment they can never pay.
Bitterness is a irrational response to pain and injustice.
Being hurt is a result of circumstances beyond your control.
But bitterness is a choice.
Choose today to pack your bags and leave the place called bitterness.
Everyone who loves you will be so glad you did.

Caitlyn's Hair Journey

I wanted to take a moment to chronicle Caitlyn's hair journey. Both of my children came from the womb with a head full of beautiful black hair. That would explain the heartburn I endured, right? lol! As Caitlyn got older, her hair texture became more and more curly.
I'll admit in the early days, I wasn't all that skilled or creative. Not all black women can braid.
I'm one of them.
I do ok with plaits but cornrows? Nope. It's probably because my mom didn't know how to cornrow either. Amazing how such skills get passed down from mother to daughter. But she did teach me how to plait which helped me to an extent.
I was the little girl coming up with the "bad hair". I was barely 11 years old when my father sent my sister and I to the hair dresser for matching Jerri curls. I'll spare you that photo montage. So coming up, I always had hair issues. It was unruly, thick, coarse, you name it, that's what it was. It was hard to comb. It broke combs.
Now here I was with a beautiful baby girl who's hair was very, very curly. I didn't know what to do with it so I ended up doing very little.

Here's Caitlyn at around 8 or 9 months old

When she was this size, I got away with my lack of creativity. But the older she got, I realized I had to do better. Last year, when Caitlyn went through her hair pulling issue (I'll blog about that at length soon) and recovered from it, I realized that I'd have to do a better job at nurturing her hair growth. By the time she overcame her hair pulling, I didn't have very much to work with in the back. I found a mom on youtube name Katie Lynn Lynn who was the adoptive mom of two Liberian little girls. I was completely fascinated and inspired by her dedication to the care of her little girls' hair. Why? Primarily because she was white. I said to myself, "If she can overcome any reservations she may have about hair care for her daughters, surely I can!"

So away I went.

After watching a few youtubes of Katie, I decided to give the piggyback braids a try. Here's my first attempt:

When I realized that I COULD style my daughter's hair well and didn't have to feel less than because I was unable to cornrow, I ventured into different styles. I am so serious that other moms made me feel less than because I couldn't braid my daughter's hair. In the beginning, her aunt on her father's side would braid her hair when she felt like it. Both the aunt and Marc didn't waste time comparing her styling skills to mine. Rather than fighting back, I acquiesced and let her do the styling. This left me feeling pretty low and incompetent.
But here's the message I'm trying to send here...
I'm the best mommy for the job!
I don't care how many moms out there can style their daughters hair like a pro, I'm still the best mommy for the job. How many African American moms have told other moms of beautiful African American little girls that they couldn't style their children's hair properly? When I saw Katie's youtube channel, I was liberated. If a white woman (who quite frankly had a way harder road to hold than me) could step up to the plate, learn the techniques and needs of her daughter's hair types, so could I.

Pardon her frowny face. She was fussy this day. lol!

Caitlyn's hair braided, about a month ago.

So here's what I started doing differently:
1. Since hair "grows", I decided that the best thing for me to do, even if I wasn't sure of all the products to use, would be to be more consistent in how often I touched her hair. Whatever I did, I had to make sure I was doing it routinely, i.e. routinely washing, conditioning, moisturizing, combing and brushing. You can't just leave hair alone. That's what I had to learn. Even if it's not the best care, hair will respond to CARE.
2. I changed my attitude about her hair. I embraced her curls. Her hair wasn't "bad" or even hard to manage. The problem wasn't her hair, but my ignorance. I committed myself to loving her hair.
3. I decided to be confident in what I could do, instead of insecure about what I couldn't. I still can't cornrow my daughter's hair. But I do a mean piggyback braid! I also do great pigtails and two stranded twists. I do what I can do well and think nothing of what I can't do.
Caitlyn's hair stays braided about 80% of the time. Most of the time I braid it straight from her wash and conditioning, no blow drying or heat. I decided to do something different yesterday, just to mark the progress her hair has made since I implemented a few changes, mainly in my attitude:

Isn't she an absolute DOLL?! I LOVE her hairstyle! No, my parts aren't precise and there's no fancy bells and whistles, but I did it! I was able to make my daughter look presentable. I successfully blow dried and flat ironed her hair all by my lonesome. I probably won't do this style too often because I'm not a fan of too much heat, but when I want to give her a different look, I now know that I can do it. That makes me feel really good.

YOU are enough for your babies.
And that, is all.

Are You Listening?

Have you ever had a "conversation" with someone that didn't afford you the chance to get a word in edge wise? Has that same person seemed to appreciate your silence more than your input?
Have you ever needed the person who used your ears to unload their burdens to listen to you? Were you ever disappointed when they didn't seem to have the time or interest in doing so for you?
I have.
I've been doing some thinking about this whole concept of friendship, as well as some self examination. I'm a talkative person. I'm certainly not in denial about it. But here lately, I've done more writing than talking. Why? It's because I've been reevaluating what it truly means to be a friend to someone.
My listening skills weren't all that great. I was more interested in making my point and being heard than I was in actually hearing what someone else had to say. When I looked at my own life and its relationships, I didn't feel like I had many people who were truly there for me to listen, offer advice and to care about what I was going through.
However, the tough reality is that we reap what we sow.
If I don't have something in my life, chances are, I'm not being that to someone else.
If I want it in my life, I've got to be that for someone else.
So now, I talk less and listen more. That means I've often forgotten a good point that could have been the slam dunk of all great points I ever made, but guess what? My friends didn't seem to notice or care. At the end of the conversation, they were just glad to have someone who listened and cared... not someone who had a great one-liner.
I'll save the one liners for my writing.
I'm put on my listening ears for my friends.

Bigger Cup

Nothing starts my morning off great like a rich cup of coffee! I've been a fan of the taste of coffee since I was about four years old and my mom used to give me a few sips of her Sanka. Anybody remember Sanka?! lol!
I loved the smell and taste of coffee.
Fast forward to 2010, and I decided to join Gevalia's coffee club. Oh, the joy! I don't drink coffee every single morning but here and there, I'll take in a good cup or two. But here lately, I've become frustrated.
Here's the source of my frustration...

It's not the coffee, but the CUP it's in! The coffee is FANTASTIC! I enjoy each velvety drop. My frustration comes from the cup that holds my favorite coffee. I must admit, I gave more thought to the coffee than I did the container that would hold it. I put my credit card number down and signed up to receive the gourmet coffee by mail...
But I didn't even go out to the store to find a cup suitable enough to hold it.

Wow.
That will preach, won't it?

Bye Bye Step Mom!

I remember it like it was yesterday; the first day I was introduced to Marc's oldest child.
She was only eight years old when Marc and I first met but had turned nine by the time he arranged for us to meet. Matt was still an infant but my relationship with Marc had progressed to the point that he felt comfortable with introducing me to his daughter who was indisputably dear to his heart. Long before I met her, I'd already been informed by his relatives that he and his daughter were very close. I can remember a time or two calling him on the phone and he telling me he had to call me back later because it was time to help her with her bath or tie up her hair for bedtime.
He knocked on the door of my apartment and I opened it. There before me was the cutest, light skinned and  version of him. She was quiet but very polite, no disrespect in sight. She had a story of her own.
By eight years old, she'd already seen both of her parents move on to other relationships. Her mom at the time was living with her then boyfriend and the two of them had a son together. Marc was in a six year relationship with a woman before me, but the two of them had no children. I would discover later that this point caused insecurity and strain in their relationship.
What I don't think either of them realized at the time as we all stood staring at each other in the doorway of my apartment was that I was probably the most nervous person among us in that single moment. I'm sure Marc had his jitters. He was hyper sensitive to my reactions toward his daughter because of what he went through in his last relationship.
It was all new to me.
I was a mommy for the first time.
And I was being introduced to the child of the man I loved for the first time.
This was a dynamic I'd never had to deal with in any of my previous relationships. Most of the men I dated were as I was: without children. I'm not sure if I made this a requirement or if it just worked out that way. And then I met Marc, fell in love with him and my world changed.
Periodically I'd see his daughter, but never as often as I wanted. After a while, things began to feel rather heavy. When she would come, my house would be filled with a very uncomfortable vibe. I didn't know where it was coming from then, but now I do. There was a conversation and a fear going on in the minds of Marc, his daughter, and his daughter's mom that I wasn't privy to. I know it takes a lot for a mom to let her child spend the night at another woman's house. Even though she was with another man herself, she was also introduced to a new scenario. He daughter's father now had another child with another woman.
Let the drama begin!
So I walked into an atmosphere filled with expectations, fears and assumptions and I didn't handle it well. It nearly broke me down. It made me snappy and short tempered when all I wanted to be as accepted and loved. Marc expected me to love and treat her as I did our children together, but that was something I couldn't do.
I made a few mistakes in that relationship but I learned some things along the way that I think can be applied to future blended family situations:
First of all, kiss the "step mom" title good-bye.
 I will never forget the first time Marc yelled out, "Do what Melissa says! She's your mama". I think I went pale underneath my brown skin. Seriously?! She was 11 years old. The last thing she wanted to hear was that some woman she barely knew and that had two children who were competing for face time with her dad was expecting to be called "mama".
That wasn't my expectation at all. She had a mom and a very good one at that. I wasn't in any way trying to take her mom's place or even share her space. What I did want, was to be respected in my own home. That's a difference. Let's face it. Few couples are widows and widowers who have small children and are waiting for a replacement parent to come along and sweep their children off their tiny little feet. When it comes to life in America today, most children come from homes much like the ones my children are in: mama and daddy were never married and now are no longer together. Each parent has either moved on or is in the process of moving on to different relationships. They spend time with or visit one parent or the other and for the most part, they will never live together all under one roof. My advice is for the blended families who will most likely never live under the same roof. Drop the step mom expectation. It will take a way a huge and unnecessary burden.

Secondly, you automatically have authority because you're the ADULT! 

Truth of the matter is that if you've got issues within the relationship with your man, it's going to be projected onto the children from outside of the relationship. I was insecure with where his commitment was for me so I dealt with moments of feeling as if he favored his child over me, respected her and her mom's feelings more than mine, and he expected me to do things that I didn't necessarily feel I had to. For example, if his daughter had a need for school supplies and he didn't have the money, it was his expectation that I would take care of it because we were a couple. Umm, no. lol! This didn't fly because #1, he payed his daughter's mom child support, not me and #2 I simply refused to do his job for him. I believe dads should be dads and moms, moms. When it came to the well being of their child, I felt that was their responsibility to handle. That may be wrong, but where we do start when it comes to the number of things wrong in that relationship?! You see, Marc and his daughter's mom made it very clear that when it came to decision making for the care of their daughter, I was an unwelcome party. I was fairly ok with this sentiment because he and I had our hands full with our two. I gave the two of them a liberal amount of space to raise their daughter as they saw fit. My only issue was that when she came into my home, they both needed to relax their stance a bit. Your child isn't going to stay in my home and not be corrected when she does something wrong. Seriously? And I'm not going to all of a sudden be respected as a parent of your child when it comes time for me to spend my money. No sir, no ma'am.
Examine the needs of your children and establish the appropriate relationship based on those needs.
Marc's daughter didn't need a step mom. She wasn't an abandoned child in need of a positive female role model. She came from a very good single parent home and her mom worked hard to provide for her. What she needed from me was someone who could facilitate a better relationship with her dad. That's probably where Marc and I drew our most obvious disagreement. He was focused on bringing his children together. I was focused on bringing him closer to his daughter. By default, he was already closer to our two children together because for a time, we were all living under the same roof. It was his oldest child who felt as if she was on the outside looking in. And because of this, she and her mom began to resent the relationship Marc had with my two children. I know how easy it is for little girls to feel neglected. I was one such little girl. So I realized that it was imperative that Marc spend as much one on one time with his daughter as possible. He felt that one on one time was reinforcing the divine between his children so he pushed to bring them all together. However, this only heightened the tension between all parties. Had he given her time just with him, she would not have resented his time spend with her brother and sister. She would have had something to call her own, instead of feeling like she had to share everything. Here's a hint parents: children don't mind sharing if they can have something to themselves. But when we force them to share EVERYTHING, that builds resentment.
Just because you've invested time into your romantic relationship, doesn't mean a relationship has formed between you and the children outside of the relationship.
This is something that I'm also guilty of. Relationships take time to build. Children rarely take to a person instantly but don't be discouraged. Time can and will improve the situation if it is actively worked on. My relationship with Marc's daughter is certainly better now than it was then. She's also 14 years old now.
Big difference.
There's a lot of things she can see for herself and understand a lot better than she did at age eight. When she comes up to visit now, she greets me warmly and gives me a hug. Considering all that she's been through, I treasure her affection and acknowledgement of me. I wasn't perfect in the early days but boy, I tried to be. I worry about her relationship with her father because he still hasn't made the strong effort he should to spend time with her. When she moved to Atlanta three years ago, I knew her mom was doing so to send a message to Marc. She was tired and to prove it, she was moving away from him and the life she used to live. She was done with his excuses, promises, lies and laziness. What you don't value, you lose. I don't know her personally. We have spoken maybe four times since I've known Marc but one thing is evident: he made his bed extremely hard with her. So when she announced that she was moving to Atlanta and DID it, I knew it was an indictment against Marc. I'm not saying that I'll never move myself. After all, I have a right to live my life and find a good life wherever it may be. A lot of times, moms bear the burden of facilitating a relationship with their children's fathers but here's the truth. When Marc's daughter lived just six minutes away, he would barely spend time with her. He was never a terrible dad.. just a lukewarm one. His daughter's mom got tired of waiting for him to heat up.
I told him, from a daughter's heart, that if he had to borrow a car, he needed to set up a consistent schedule of driving to Atlanta to go get her and spend time with her. She needed to know at this critical age that her daddy would move heaven and earth for her. She needed to know by his actions that she was worth a sacrifice. But for the past three years, all I've heard is excuses and complaints of more bills than money.
*Sigh*
Daddies, being superman aint easy, but it's your job.
Bottom line is that relationships of any construction and composition take work. It takes work to build a life with a man. Takes work to blend a family. Takes work to form a relationship with children who aren't biologically yours. It's a lot of man and woman hours, but it does pay very well.
Let go of your expectations, really... let them go.
You will not be Mrs. Suzie Homemaker. All of your children probably won't be sitting around the table singing   songs together and sharing laughter. You will probably have to cancel that appointment at Portrait Innovations because someone may have a problem with everyone being posed up in matching outfits.
But that doesn't mean that it can't and won't be good and that there won't be memorable moments made. My children's big sister may not share my DNA but she is dear to my heart because she shares DNA with them. I view her very similarly to her father. He's as much a part of my family tree as anyone, and so is she. At first, she represented his past and because I wasn't sure if I had a future with him or not, I felt very threatened by her and her mom. But six years later, the threat is gone. Now I see that no matter what, we'll always be a part of each others' lives in some form or another. I don't sweat the form anymore.
I'm just thankful for the love however and whenever it comes to each of us.

My New Favorite Shoe...

Ok. so I took a few days off from blogging. My apologies. Sometimes us women folk just have our moods and it's best I make my words few when I'm in such a mood, know what I mean? Not sure if y'all can stomach another man rant. lol! So now that I've had a snack, put on some roomy pants and put the babies to bed, let's talk.
As I stated previously, my love for shoes has been reawakened. I've had my eye on this certain pair of shoes for about a month. I was hoping the price would be marked down a little more. I like to look good but Lord knows I can't justify spending hundreds to do so when I have two hungry mouths to feed! After waiting for weeks, the price never went down again. So before the bad boys were sold out, I placed my order.

And without further delay...

LORD HAVE MERCY!!!
Ok, I know I said the glittery heels were my favorite shoes but I honestly think these have taken their place! I love everything about this shoe, including the solid red 4 inch heel and the red platform with solid black stripes going across it.
A few fun facts about this shoe: This shoe is called the Speed Limit 98 Akey Cheetah Pump- Tan. On the Houser Shoes website, this shoe runs in sizes 6M-11M. I ordered the 11 M, of course, and I've found the shoe to be what I'd consider a true 11. I wear size 11's most of the time because I'm only a half size larger. Size 12 shoes are too big, and let's face it, most of the cute shoes don't come in 12! Great shoe for women who wear 10.5 normally. I'll post pictures of myself wearing them when I feel like breaking out the ol' paint roller and painting my toes. Hey, y'all know I keep it real! It's been a couple of weeks since my feet saw some polish and a Ped Egg (which by the way is an invention birthed in heavenly places) so I'll spare y'all a peek at my untidy toes. lol! If you're my height and weight, then you know that any heel over 3 inches is definitely not comfortable but I've found that platforms are the way to go. I walk on my toes anyway and platforms add an extra bit of shock absorption that makes tippin around just a little more pleasant. It's a well made shoe that normally retains at Houser for about $40.00. I snagged it for $29.97. Ordinarily, I wouldn't pay that much for a shoe. I'm serious! I know true shoe divas would consider this a steal, and it is. But my budget is just way too tight for that type of splurge. But this shoe was well worth it. The colors and leopard print are very stylish for the woman who likes a bit of flair, like me. As soon as I find the perfect outfit, I'll be sure to post it. I'd really love to try a light colored sheath dress of some sort, maybe even a red sheath. Talk about POP!
 I know this picture isn't in the best lighting and you're dying to see more angles but not tonight. Mama is tired! My children's father didn't come to get them this weekend (that's another blog entry) which means no break for me. But rather than focusing on the negative, I choose to focus on the positive...
These stunning shoes!
And of course, I have not one thing to wear with them. lol! Actually, I'm sure I could scrounge around my closet and pull something together but who wants to do that?! This is definitely the perfect shoe to spice up a basic black skirt or pantsuit. I've definitely placed a check by that combination. But I've also been trying to think outside of the box and have considered pairing these with beige, ivory, and even gold outfits. I'm completely open to suggestions. I'll post another pair of stilettos that I purchased last year in a unbelievably bright shade of turquoise. I was looking to punch up my wardrobe with some great color and ended up buying a pair of shoes I was too scared to wear! lol! I've only worn the blue heels once, and that was with a very safe pair of jeans and a white , peasant style top. But trust me, I'm not all about being safe. I don't mind taking a fashion risk, especially if it looks good on me!
I really wish I had a better camera and a steady handed boyfriend to capture these outfits I've been pulling together for myself lately. I know money's tight but that has led me to be more creative. Nothing wrong with pairing old standbys in your closet with new pieces. With the addition of just three colored tank tops, I've created several different outfits. I've also started using cloth belts from other skirts with jeans to create a dramatic focal point in my casual outfits.
I'm not really sure what to call my style. I've been known to pair a valour sweat suit with a rhinestone choker and matching bracelet. Who does that?!
Me. lol!
I like things that make me feel pretty, even if I'm casual. It is very hard for me to dress casually. I always seem a bit "dressed up". I don't mind jeans but I can't stand sneakers. I only own two pairs of sneakers, a pair of white Airforce 1's and a blue and gray pair of New Balances that have one foot in the grave and the other, in my closet. I'm most comfortable in business casual attire. I'm least comfortable in sneakers. IF the mood hits me and I fel up to it, I may post some of my favorite pieces from my closet. I'm sure you're all dying to see what a size 20 woman loves to put on, right? Aww, y'all are too kind! lol!

Ooh, Ooh, Pick Me!

I'm in one of those moods today. I've got some things on my mind and they're causing me a bit of irritation. For starts, I'm just really tired of my love life feeling like a competition, contest or waiting game. I don't like being compared to apples on a tree, buses on a street or fish in the sea. I don't like the fact that many men go "shopping:" for a woman and whether or not you're selected somehow determines your standing in the world. I don't like the fact that I feel as if I'm waiting to get picked, selected, chosen and approved of.
REALLY?
So I made it all the way to 33 years old, through a torturous stint in elementary school, a lack luster middle school career, a depressing high school stay and two overwhelming years of college to arrive here?!
ARE WE SERIOUS?!
I feel like I have a firm handle on everything but my love life. Raising my children is by faith. Making it from day to day and not seeing where the money is coming from is by faith. But when a M-A-N is involved, where oh WHERE is my faith??!
I told my sister that this is the one area of my life I wish would just be RIGHT. I'm tired of all the drama, heartache and disappointment. Why can't this part just WORK?! Maybe it's me and I accept whatever portion of blame and responsibility necessary but I STILL want this to WORK!!
I'm frustrated because I just don't like feeling like a man has all of this power and control over women. I understand authority and I get he was created first. But is it really necessary to have your pick of the women of the world and revel in it? Is it really essential to a man's life cycle to make women feel like contestants competing for the grand prize which is his love and affection?
I just can't get with that.
Not sure if I ever will.
I hear the few men out there who think they're clever and say that women actually wield all of the power. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! It takes an enormous amount of craftiness and manipulation on a woman's part to scale the fence of a man's ego. I don't want to sit up and figure out how to make a man "feel like he's in charge" while I secretly get my way. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! Why can't I just have my way as easily and straight forwardly as he does? Is it really necessary for me to employ CSI level skill just to get a little bit of what I want and need out of the relationship? Is it really necessary for me to figure out a way to be seen and not heard? Do I really feel like monitoring every word, action and response to make sure I don't disturb a man's lightly sleeping ego?! REALLY?!
The answer is "NO"!
I am not mean, I am loving. I do have an opinion and I don't mind sharing it. I have a brain in my head and a beating heart in my chest. I love hard and play hard too. I have my flaws just like anyone but I'm as worthy as anyone of love, affection, attention and respect. I don't want to feel like I have to become someone other than myself to have a relationship. What's with the men crying and stalking women who have shown them absolutely no respect and couldn't care less about them? I don't want to become a capital "B" in order for a man to treat me good. Unfortunately that's been my perspective. Some men say that good guys finish last. They obviously were in front of good women and never looked over their shoulders once they crossed the finish line. Yoo hoo! Good women feel the same way!
If you're faithful, cook, clean, listen to his problems, are there for him when no one else is, respect, love, care, go above and beyond, change your personality, change your clothes, change your friends and change EVERYTHING, he leaves. But if you act like he barely exists, you won't see or hear the last of him. REALLY?! That's so not me. I can't be mean to a man just to keep him.
I'm not saying I've always played fair in the game of love. I've made my fair share of mistakes. If you interviewed an ex or two, they'd probably each have the same issues with me: "I'm never satisfied". That would be correct. I'm not satisfied with a man getting everything he needs from me in a relationship and I'm getting NONE of what I need while there. NEVER will be. So I speak up, insist, and point out the areas that need to be attended to. And for me to be told by men, who CLAIM they want straight forward conversation and less emotion that I need to find a better way to communicate is to me a cop out. Oh, PLEASE! Bottom line is that you do not feel obligated to adjust, shift or change in a relationship. It is all on the woman to adapt and change and if she can't, she's outta there. That's the whole issue. So the relationship becomes a woman's burden to carry instead of a garden that two people tend.
It takes two.
So yea, I'm a little, umm... irritated today. But  I'll be ok. I'm actually starting to feel a little better now that I've gotten it off my chest. I just want to be seen for who I am and loved for it.
And that is all.