1.183 – 916 Days

We haven’t known each other long, in the scheme of things, and yet…you’ve changed me. Given me a new perspective on things…allowed me to grow into the person I want to be. You don’t judge me, you don’t ignore me, you don’t attempt to change me. Instead, you inspire me. You give me hope in the future. You point me in the right direction when I question what to do. You give me courage to fight the good fight, despite the odds. You make me laugh to no end. You bring tears to my eyes when you bless me with your presence.

I owe you the world. I owe you my life. I owe you one hundred percent of my attention. I owe you my strength, my time, my support.

I am lucky to know you. I am lucky to have met you. I am lucky to hear your voice every day and to see you smile.

916 days since I fell in love. 21,984 hours since I woke up. 1,319,040 minutes since I came to life. Every single moment has changed me. For the better.

I love you Hunter. My son. My love. My life.


1.175 – When You Are Happy

When you are sad, I will swim with you in an ocean of tears and become your life jacket when you are ready to let go of the feeling.

I will listen with an open heart..an open mind and hold your hand through every storm. 

When you are cold, I will become the fire that heats you…embers gifting you with a warmth to remind you that you are never alone.

I will cast away all shivers of doubt and worry with a blaze of assurance at a moments notice. 

When you are sick, I will make you the foods that fulfill your soul, play melodies that will morph into blankets of healing, and sing sunshine back into your frail little body. 

When you are lonely, I will appear in the twinkle of the stars, the sway of the leaves and the blossoming of every flower. Every raindrop will be a kiss from me to you and every tick of a clock will be my I love you. 

When you are afraid, I will slay every monster and capture every dragon. You will live atop a mountain of safety as I shatter the glass of darkness, turmoil and pain of this world. Glass you will never have to touch. 

When you are tired, I will lay down a thousand and one bedtime stories of your happiness, your love, your growth and triumphs. You will lay upon the stories of joy and wonder and fall into dreams of hope. 

When you are grumpy, I will do all the silly little things that make you giggle and tickle you until you hit the highest pitch of laughter known to man. 

I will shower you in jelly belly droplets and strawberry shortcake swirls, in fruit punches and sun kisses. 

When you are lost, I will shine upon you the radiant beam of the moon, to find you in the darkest hour. Whether a lifetime away or simply two feet…whether you are unfound or just feeling unseen…I will hold you in my heart and cast love and light upon your name. 

I will dim the light when you do not want to be found, though I will never turn my back, I will give you the space and time you need. 

When you are happy…oh when you are happy. I will bask in the glow of your joy and relish in the wonder of your smile. I will count my lucky stars for having the opportunity to be your mother and thank my lucky stars that you chose me. Saved me. Taught me what love means. 

When you are happy.

Inspired by When You Are Happy by Eileen Spinelli.

1.166 – Pool Rant

I took my son to the pool today. We enjoyed the sun, the warmth, the water, some snacks and bonding time. But there was definitely plenty to not enjoy. So here’s my letter to the dumbass’ of the pool.

Dear JerkFace Parents: When you pick up your yearly pool pass, you sign a contract that specifically says: NO ALCOHOL AT THE POOL. Why the hell are you morons carrying around bottles of Budweiser? You trashy alcoholics couldn’t wait until AFTER you take your kids to the pool to get wasted? Couldn’t hold off your typical display of neglect as you chug at the booze while your child dives into two feet of water? Seriously? I hate your face and I hope you die.

Dear Children of The Above JerkFace Parents: I pity you since you were born to inbred future DUI cases BUT I’m not your momma. You are not allowed to take my sons toys for your own pleasure just because your parents didn’t bring anything for you to play with. This is a pool. Play with the fucking water. And the next time you snatch something from my son, I will pick you up, take you to a very dark corner and explicitly explain how Santa Claus ass rapes the Easter Bunny until you shit yourself into a coma.

Dear Teenage Girls: If you cannot afford a bathing suit – feel free to stay home. I do not wish to see dental floss covering your bits. And if you’re going to wear dental floss: SHAVE. Pubic hair is not sexy at the pool. Invest in a Bic and save everyone the horror of seeing your nappy carpet-crotch.

Dear Teenage Boys: Stop doing back flips into the pool to impress the girls in dental floss. They are not impressed now and they will not be impressed when you crack your face open. I’m just saying.

Dear Clouds: You are evil. Do not wait until I get into the water to cover up the sun. This causes me to be cold. And I don’t like being cold. So cut that shit out. I’m not kidding.

Dear Bugs: DIE.

Yep, that’s it. I’m not going to say Happy Memorial Day because I think we need to remember those who have fallen for our freedom EVERY DAY. Making a BBQ and getting wasted sure as shit doesn’t equate to a thank you for the sacrifices so many soldiers have made. Whether you believe in war or not; someone has died for your freedoms. Don’t take that for granted.

1.164 – Saying A Whole Lot of Nothing

Not even sure how to start this post. Not feeling very inspired at the moment. Pretty fed up with the human species as a whole. I have no inclination to deal with sarcasm or poorly aimed wit, stupid people or fair weather individuals.

Not much seems to be going my way, as of late. As of the past eight years. Maybe the past twenty-eight. Who the hell knows. Just another emo moment in the emo life of yours truly.

I’m hoping better things will come in June. All I know is I have to get my ass in gear and make things happen, in all aspects of my life. I’m running out of fuel and the journey hasn’t even started yet. It’s only going to get a million times worse.

I’m just hoping there is a light at the end of this dark, dank tunnel.

1.148 – Heads Up

Originally, I was going to sit down and type a blog reflecting on all of the chaos that has been unfolding over the past week. BUT…I don’t feel like it. Though I hope to find inspiration, even in the darkest of places, I don’t wish to fill my world furthermore with feelings of continued victimization. What I will do is fight the good fight, continue to grow as a better person and be the best damned mother you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. My son is a beautiful little man and he is my reason for moving forward. Not hate, not resentment, not anger or disappointment. My son is my light and the best thing I can do as a mother is to project that same light out into the world so that my son may see the world from a beautiful perspective.

Everything happens for a reason. This isn’t always fun to live through. But hell if ain’t gonna make me stronger. I will not wait for someone to unlock me from this cage and remove my shackles. I will create the key and soar.

1.38 – Yet Another Stupid Guy

Just when I’m not sure what to write about, someone gives me ammunition.

I get my son dressed and head to the local gas station for some juice and evening snacks. It’s a cold night, drizzling rain and perfect for a movie. So, we make the 2 minute drive to the store. I get out of the car and walk to the other side to get my son out of his car seat. This random guy, decked out in all his street thug glory, hollers at me “what up, ma.” Which I ignore.

So this fabulous stranger decides it would be a good idea to walk up on me while I’m taking my son out of the car. He says “can I holler at you for a minute.” I say “no, I’m with my son and don’t have time for you.” He replies “I just wanted to say whats up.” I say “you know, its really a stupid move to walk up on a woman when she is with her child.

“Aw girl, aint nobody trying to steal no black babies around here.”

Yes, he said that. So I start walking into the store with my child. He follows. “Would it make you feel better if I walk in with you?” I say “no, actually it wouldn’t”

He follows anyway. “Well, it’s my birthday” Happy birthday to you. I’m not a total bitch. He says thanks and continues to ask if he could holler at me some time. “Listen, Im with my child and we just want to buy some milk and juice in peace without some random guy thinking I came to the store for a hookup.” He says “well, he’s young, he don’t know what we are talking about.”

“But I do. And I don’t want to talk to you.”

He says alright and wishes me a good night and leaves the store.


DO NOT ever walk up on a woman when she is removing her child from a car. Forget calling the police, I will smack the shit out of you with the crowbar that is within arms reach. (Thank you by the way to the two older men who rolled down their windows when the guy walked up on me, I noticed he did move back after that. Small move but appreciated nonetheless).

My son is not black. Is there a problem with black babies? Not that I am aware of. That being said, I don’t assume your weed smelling ass wants to steal my child. I am assuming you think you can get somewhere with his mother. And the black babies comment is just asinine. Don’t worry, my kids are safe because no one wants to steal them, aw damn. Like you want black children to get swooped up. Dumbass.

Following a woman into a store makes you creepy. Period.

What is it with guys saying it’s there birthday. Like that gets you a freebie from the next random stranger you meet. Is that grounds for a pity conversation or more? I was not aware of this memo. Glad I missed it.

Here’s the thing. You went to a gas station and tried picking some girl up. Do you think I left the house with my child and thought, for a second, “this is it. This will be the time when I stroll up to get some milk and find my one true love hanging out at a gas station at 9pm on a Tuesday night smelling like weed. Yup! He’s a winner, can’t wait to meet him.”

Lastly…STOP DRESSING LIKE THAT! The rappers don’t even look that dirty. It’s not cute, it’s not impressive, it’s not even “ghetto.” You look homeless. Your clothes don’t fit for Christs sake. And the jewelry? What is the point of wearing something so big around your neck? It didn’t work for Flava Flav…give it up!

Every time a guy acts stupid or comes at me wrong, I just add his actions to my list. These are all the things I will teach my son not to do. And for the grown ass men – remember that you have a mother, sisters, aunts, nieces and maybe daughters: be the man to others that you want others to be to them.

1-31 – Ask Yourself This…

Lets take a break from NaNoWriMo for a second, shall we?

This is a very personal rant. I’m not about to talk about random people who annoy me. I’m not about to make any humorous digs. This is raw, hand shaking frustration. And I’ll explain why I’m sharing this with my readers at the end.

Here is the short story: guy and girl get separated, guy and girl already have a child together, guys family (for the most part) acts like girl and child do not exist. Guy gets injured (nothing major) girl posts update because she knows word will get back to guys family, guy is completely okay, girl gets phone call from guys mom asking how guy is doing because she herself cannot get a hold of guy. And here’s where I’m royally pissed off.

You don’t call me to ask how my son is doing. You don’t call me to ask if my son needs anything. You don’t call me to ask if you can see my son. You don’t call me to show any interest in any way for this human being. You do call that guy frequently and bring me up in conversation. You question my mothering abilities. You question what I do, where I am, if I can take care of my child. You talk nothing but garbage about me. How do I know this…because your son shouted you out, thats how.

You can degrade me for the sake of talking about someone. You can point your hypocritical religious fingers at me because I refuse to believe in the same things as you. You can say I’m damned to hell and so is my child. You can say whatever you want because, apparently, you are an expert on life itself.

Here is why this is inspiration to me. You are exactly what I don’t want to be. You are a the image of the type of mother, human being I truly wish to avoid becoming and I’ve met some crappy people in my life. You inspire me to work to no end to be a better person on my own so that I don’t have to depend on my son when he is older to give me purpose in my life. You remind me that my son cannot be my crutch. You remind me that my son will become his own man and at some point I will have to let him go and live life all by himself!

You remind me that evil comes in all forms. You spent years pointing a mirror at me so I would hate my own skin, my thoughts, who I am. You should have flipped that mirror around and stared into the true reflection of sadness. I pity you.

If you know my number, buck up and call to ask how my angel is progressing. Ask if he’s talking yet. Ask if he enjoys playing with others and how his manners are coming along. Ask how his asthma is doing and if he’s a happy child. Ask if he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he is loved. Ask about that! And ask yourself this…when you call your son and he doesn’t answer you…when he avoids talking to you or seeing you until he truly has to…ask yourself why. Because you are poison.

You can call me damned because I don’t follow your belief system. I know you are damned, here on this earth because you lack the one thing every mother needs to know to breathe – that your child respects you and loves you to no end. I may be lacking in many things, but this is not one of them.

Poison can be inspiration. It forces us to move and grow, to better ourselves so we can stop the cycle. Poison inspires me to be a better woman, a better writer, a better mother, a better human being. I may not be there yet but I am on my way.

I will kiss the muse. You can just kiss my ass.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled program, already in progress…and I’ll return to NaNoWriMo.