Let them eat Lunch!

If you are looking for a great alternative to the old school brown bag. These kids decide to design a great new lunch bag. It will keep cold things and safe below 40 degree temp and room temperature items at room temp. This is an exciting find. I also didn’t know that if you pack the lunch the night before it is bad for the insulated bags. Way to go!

I know you are, but what am I

As Children we play games for the sake of the fun had by all. The older we get we understand the consequences of those games can be serious. The collateral damaged and destruction felt by those closest to us is not a scene from a movie. It is real. The tears we cause, the laughter we squash, often times are bigger than what we could have ever imagined. I am a child still. I grew up with two parents who broke up while I was still young. Six to be exact the last age of innocence. Many believe that at age seven you are able to reason. Reasoning, brings rationalizing and rationalizing brings doing things you think are best for all when in the end we all only really do what is best for us. My step-son is six and as I attempt to navigate a new life for my daughter and myself apart from my husband the party in the middle of this war zone is still 6. An innocent 6, and my daughter is an angelic 3. Still believing that the adults around her can learn to play nice. This time will always be with him. As is the time I heard my parents arguing their last argument. I don’t remember the words and even then I don’t think I truly understood. I just realized that they were unhappy. Which in turn made me sad.

I don’t believe in staying in it for the kids. I have never wanted to be one of those women, but that is what the last year has been about. I reasoned with myself, and rationalized for them. It hasn’t been about me or my wants or needs it has been about those two children who need to see their parents make it. This is a difficult world to maneuver through and without a well-balanced childhood it becomes increasingly difficult to understand what or who you belong to. That sense of needed approval never goes away. A friend recently said to me that as adults we don’t get new issues. The issues we have stem from our childhood and we never really get over them.

I am trying to figure out where I fit. Where I belong and who I belong to. Even as a child there were many places I didn’t fit in. I have a lot of issues I won’t begin to share them all now, but I realize that the only person I ever felt safe with was so sure of who they were it scared me. Their focus and drive was so much greater than my own. And I’ve always thought I pretty much had it all figured out and then I got sidetracked. I am not exactly sure what the date was, but it was probably in the Winter of 2004. I had rationalized my choices as progressive. Now I realized that every choice I made led me here. Today, I cannot go back, but I can damn well never see this space or feel this way again. I can decide that fear will not define my ability to love again.

But like in duck duck goose you secretly want to be picked, but don’t enjoy the chase. Belonging is a human emotion that has a stronger pull than anyone would ever admit. We will do all kinds of things, and don’t get me started on Social Media. I am not a fan of Facebook, but I’ve been forced there by all of my peers to stay in touch. But I firmly believe like Common said “one day it will all make sense”.

The Juggling Act

Do you ever feel like there are enough hours in the day to possibly get all that you believe you need to get done? Well, you aren’t alone. I know so many Parents who are finding it increasingly difficult to make it all work. I read an article in Redbook from the March issue about Making it Work.  (Don’t judge me I am behind on my pleasure reading). But what struck me about this article was that the Press secretary for Dr. Jill Biden quickly became my hero. A working mom, with a job any Public Relations girl would give her right arm to have. Well I would! I would love to work in the white house, and having the opportunity to do government relations would be better than butter pecan ice cream. Her and her husband made it work between two cities and 1 toddler and 1 baby on the way. I was inspired by her story and it made me truly evaluate all that we as women do to Make it work. We give 100% of ourselves to everyone, but ourselves. We give our jobs, kids, husbands, friends, so much of our time do we even make time for ourselves. This year I said that I would do less juggling and more “Me” time. we owe it to ourselves to take care of our only asset. US. I want to be a better mother because I give myself much-needed breaks. Some women are gilt ridden into believing that after all the time spent away from our families we don’t have the right to ask for a few minutes to ourselves. Well! Guess what you do. You have every right to ask and have some of our prayers answered. Put yourself back on your priority list. You will see that giving of yourself requires you to be at the top of your game. So push the pause button, don’t allow any balls to drop, but know that you should do yourself good too!

The Anniversary of my death

When you think of Funerals many think of wearing all black, sadness, tears, and loss. As much as people believe that funerals are to honor the dead they are really more to honor the living without the dead. How you handle this final ceremony in a person’s life cycle really says a lot on how you are going to handle the rest of your life without them in it. There may be tears or thoughts of good times, but joy is what God wants you to have. Joy that your hope and prayer is that this person is going home to be with the Lord. There’s an old Baptist school of thought that Funerals are called Home Goings. They are celebratory in nature to send this person back to the Lord with Joyous Song and Praise of the goodness seen in that person’s life.

But sometimes the aftermath of death looks more like an earthquake leaving pain and destruction in the path for those left behind after the winds of change have calmed down to a whimper. One year ago today my life changed in the wake of death. A little piece of me was laid to rest in the ground with a woman who I shared no similarities except for the love of a very little boy. I was going through an earthquake of my own. Shattered dreams of a neat little family, placed together without much fanfare. I was able to have a relatively autonomous life. A life where my husband and I could go out for the evening, and we didn’t have to prepare two weeks in advance. I was simply a mother of one beautiful 26 month old baby girl. She was smart and funny and had my undivided attention. I am not sure what life is like as an only child as I grew up in the house with my brother, 1^st cousin, and extended family in tow. I know that it must be glorious, because you can play with toys whenever you want with no worry of them being taken when you aren’t looking. You can laugh with mommy and daddy on the floor, or take a cute nap with them all on the same pillow, instead of a shopping trip to the mall. The pace of life with one child is faster. A life I generously enjoyed. I enjoyed the “Mommy and Me” time, the trips to the store, the play dates with friends and cousins. Until I received that early morning phone call, that would change my life, my marriage, and my motherhood forever. While I heard my husband’s very shaky voice on the other end of the phone, I tried to stay strong for him. So I chose my words carefully, and hung up the phone. The next calls I made were to God and my cousin who had been at the ready to hear the news. She was my strength she said to me that I would be able to do what I was chosen to do.

I believe that every person has a calling that God has for them. For me it was to step up in this appointed time to be in the place to catch the falling pieces and continue on a well “normal” life. I went to bed on the night of March 1, 2009 uncertain of what the next days, months, and years might bring. How would this transition transform my family and what would that look like in the end. Before the light of day, I had given birth to a 36 lb, 30 inch, 4-year-old baby boy, and I was feeling the pain. I was being humanly selfish. No thinking what others needed, but thinking of what I needed and what I needed was for my life to continue to be picturesque, without being too laborious.

When my husband and I started dating, I was aware that he’d had child from his teenage sweetheart. I was aware that this child had significant health concerns that would keep him in constant care of a Cardiologist and Pediatrician for the better part of his life. I was also painfully aware that his mother had lupus. What I wasn’t sure was what that meant, until I did a little research and while it is not always fatal, it can be hindering to a life that was at one point full of promise and well life. She was a praise dancer and when she was sick it hinder that spring in her step. But with her illness and their son’s illness, I knew that I was taking on a task that I could have easily said I am not interested “No Thank You” and continued on my merry way without a second thought. But during prayer one day early in my relationship with my then boyfriend, God spoke to me about preparing for all options. Would I step into this place when not if she left this earth? I always thought I would have years before that happened and it turned out I did. But not as many I would have hoped for.

Did I choose to for God to take my son’s mother from him less than two weeks before he was to turn 5? No. Did I choose to have my house to be hit by this category 4 storm? No. Did I choose for my marriage to be tested so heavy in the first 2 years the way it has? No. But I did choose to take God at his word when He said “Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you” 1 Peter 5:7 (NLT) In that very moment and every day since I have tried to continue to keep this verse in the forefront of my mind when I am daily faced with opposition from naysayers, unbelievers, and well the devil himself. I am seeking God’s guidance on what this will all mean to mean in 12 years when I have to send this young man to college. I want to see that I did well. That he is an honest young man with values, courage, and conviction. And for little black boys in this world that is a pretty tall order. So when I said yes to God over 5 years ago. He knew that I would have to make good on that promise sooner than I did. He knew that I would struggle and sometime fall, but that I would rise from the ashes like a phoenix.

My cute life is very different these days. The changes aren’t as difficult anymore. We had to shut a lot of things out in order to work on the nuclear family again. Redesigned the way God intended it to be. I was chosen to do a task. Though like a child some days I don’t like it. And there are often times I long for a little more time to myself, but all in all we have all made room. Even our daughter has adjusted; she still likes her own space, but loves her “boy” even more, than being without him. I have decided to take this roller coaster ride while holding tightly to God’s hand with my eyes closed. He knows what he’s doing and I trust him at the wheel of my life. I want this day to represent a commitment to promise not a solemn day of tears for my son. I want him to remember that his “mommy that went to heaven” loves him very much and watches over him like an angel. I want him to know that the mommy that God continues to keep in his life will be there for him no matter what. That is what this last year has taught me about strength, resilience and love. Because that to me is truly a joyous celebration.