Saturday, July 12, 2008

Saturday Sunshine!

Well, it's Saturday and beautiful out. I haven't decided what I want to do yet, but I know I don't want to stay in the house. Even though it's July, it feels like the summer hasn't really begun. I don't know why. Maybe it's because we've had so much rain lately here in New York. To be honest, that doesn't really bother me. I love the rain. Well, I didn't love it a couple days ago when my son and I got caught in a crazy downpour.

The rain started pouring and we had a safe spot inside a phone booth. My son wanted to stay there and wait it out, but I said we should run for the bus. I had an umbrella, so I figured we would be okay. Boy was I wrong! The rain and wind destroyed my umbrella and we both got soaked. I'm a black woman, so all I could think about was my hair. No it's not a myth, black women really do not like getting their hair wet. All I could think about on the bus ride home was what I was going to do to my hair. I was pissed! I looked at my son and we both had a good laugh. That made me feel a little better.

Rain makes me think of tears. Tears make me think of something that happened to me the other day. I was watching a tv show that had a sad ending that made me cry. Once I started crying, I couldn't stop. I have no idea why I was crying, but it felt kind of good. Maybe I was getting rid of something I didn't know was there. It just felt like something I needed to do. Crying is good for the soul. Holding things in only leads to stress. Believe me, I know.

I hate when people say men shouldn't cry, that it's a sign of weakness. I think it's a sign of strength. A real man is not afraid to show his emotions. It's the weak dude that acts like he's a macho man all the time. He's trying to cover up something. He doesn't want people know that he is vulnerable or scared. There's nothing wrong with letting your guard down from time to time. No one wants to be around someone who acts like Mr. Macho all the time.

We need to raise our sons to know that it's okay to express their emotions from time to time so they won't be walking around so angry. They have enough to deal with in the outside world. I try to be a safe place my son knows he can come to. He may not always want to talk to mom about things, but he knows that he can. I'll talk to him about anything. There's too much going on out there for parents to be too scared or ashamed to talk to their kids. I was pregnant at 16 and, although I feel like I was a successful parent, that's not the life I wanted for my children.

I remember my daughter asked me about how babies were born. She had to be around 10 or 11. I work in a medical library. I took her down to the media center and showed her a child birth video. I'm sure she remembers that. (haha) When she asked me about sex, I told her exactly what it was and how it was done. She knew she had a vagina and boys had a penis and my son knew the reverse, no nicknames. I hate when people tell their daughters they have a cat and come up for some stupid name for their little boys penis. Please! Tell them the truth.

Anyway, back to the rain. One day I want to go to Central Park and run around in the pouring rain. I've always wanted to do that, but i'm a black woman. What about my hair?

Friday, July 11, 2008


I am so glad the work week has ended. I hope to get some writing done over the weekend. It looks like it's going to be a nice weekend and I have to find something to do. It's so wonderful when your children are old enough to go on about their business, and mine most certainly do.

When I woke up this morning I tried to think of all sorts of reasons not to go to work. I just wanted to get back in my bed and get some z's. My dream is to make my living as a writer and not have to worry about getting up every morning to go to a job i'm not that crazy about. Bills have to be paid, and we do what we must.

Shout out to all the single mother's out there. I talked about my father in my first blog and now I need to say something about my mother. She's the shit! She's part of the reason I got up and went to work this morning. I have watched her struggle to raise three girls and there were days, and still are, when she was sick or aching and she got up and went to work. She hasn't had an easy life, but she hardly ever complains. I probably don't tell her the way I feel enough. I admire and respect her more than she will ever know. (and she won't read this because the computer I gave her is sitting on the floor in her dining room) Love you ma!

That takes me to another point. Do we tell the people we love how we feel the way we should? People laugh because my family members and I say I love you so much. I don't see that as a bad thing. It's a great thing. This came about after my daddy passed away. I found out he was gone on his birthday. My daughter and I had been calling him all day, wondering why he wasn't answering his phone. Before the day was over, his landlord called to tell me that he was found in his apartment. He'd been there for a while. I never got to say goodbye. That made me realize that you never know what can happen. I've been telling those I love how I feel about them ever since.

TGIF! Tell the ones you love how important they are to you.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

My First Blog

This is my first blog. I've always wanted to do something like this, but I never took the time to actually do it. Actually, that's kind of been my problem in life. There have been so many things that I have WANTED to do but just didn't. There wasn't always an excuse or a reason, I just didn't.

When I turned 40 earlier this year, I vowed that I would do more. I've been on this earth for 40 years and it's time I do me. If I want to go out, I should go out. If I want to shop, I should shop. If I don't want to do shit, then I won't. Like Bobby Brown said, "It's my prerogative." It's my time. I'm a grown ass woman!

My children are on their way to having good lives. I don't have to worry about them as much as I do but, hey, i'm a mother and that's what I do damnit! I worry. I worry that I wasn't a good enough mother, I worry that they will be okay when they're on their own, I worry, worry, worry, and I will continue to do so for the rest of their lives so they should just get use to it.

One thing I do not worry about is who I raised. The fact that two people of such high character came from my womb makes me feel like i've done my job. I added quality to the world. I remember carrying them. I remember being a mother at the age of 17 and having people tell me I would fail. I remember lying on the table preparing to give birth and having the black doctor and nurse lecture me about the mistake I made. That is something I will never forget. I wish I could find them both and tell them that my mistake has earned a Master's degree and is shaping young minds as a pre-school teacher. I'd also like to give them the finger for their insensitivity and lack of professionalism, but it is what it is.

I look at my son and he reminds me so much of my father, who is no longer with us. My father was a wild boy, but my son has all of his delicate qualities. The ability to listen, be empathetic, and give advice that will wrap a situation up in a neat little box is the one that stands out most.

Speaking of my father, I really miss him. We didn't see each other a lot, but he was still one of my best friends. Like I mentioned, he was such a good listener. I could talk to him about any and everything. His advice about all situations always made me feel better. I miss his ear and his shoulder to cry on. I pray that he is resting in peace.

My son graduated from high school, second in his class a few weeks ago and I thought of my father the entire time. He would have been soooooooooo proud of his grandson. The same thing happened when my daughter graduated from college. I could feel his smiling and hear him saying, "Good job Bugaloo." I miss him and hope I can do him proud with the life I live.

This has been my first blog.....