Why Me?

I’ve spent most of my life wondering, why me?

Why didn’t I grow up in a house with a wrap around porch and a white picket fence? You know the ones in small towns with tree lined streets.

Why did I have to work so hard? I should have been playing, enjoying my childhood.

Why did I have to grow up so fast, experiencing things well beyond my years? I only wish time would have slowed down so I could have savored the moments.

Why did he walk out of my life voluntarily, while others were snatched away from me so soon?

I have been taught to never question You, but I must ask why me?

Why not you, my child? Who are you to question Me?

Do you not believe that I know what is best?

See, I love all my children.

Some of you are weak. And some of you are strong.

Although you wonder about these things, I know you already know the answer. Yes, I’m sure you already know where you belong.

You had no house and no picket fence. But I gave you a home filled with love.

You worked hard, but you now know the true meaning of sacrifice and responsibility.

You say you grew up fast, but I’ve shown you time is promised to no one. So I hoped you’ve learned to live like there is no tomorrow.

Your father walked out of your life, but I made sure he returned. If only for a little while.

You say others were snatched away so soon, but shall I remind you that in your heart they will always stay.

So the next time you ask yourself, why me?—

My daughter, you already know the answer.

Why not you?

credit: pepo @ sxc.hu/pepo

9/11: First My Childhood, Now My Freedom

credit: bjearwicke © sxc.hu/bjearwicke

As a child, I learned to adapt to many situations. By the time I was in kindergarten, I knew that the sound of gunshots meant I was supposed to lay flat on the ground until the shooting completely stopped. And by the time I was 7, I could tell you what a dead body looked like after being shot up, and how long it would take for the police to respond. I had already walked out my front & back doors to play on numerous occasions, to only see chalk outlining where bodies had previously lied and bloodstains waiting to be washed away by the rain.

When other kids my age were being shielded from PG-13 movies, my childhood was being stolen from me. Things weren’t perfect, but we finally managed to escape the housing project I grew up in. And I never really managed to get away from all the violence, being held at gunpoint when I was only 16 years old while working trying to earn extra money and a host of other events that no child should ever experience. But I had survived my past.

Fast forward to September 11, 2001, I had just turned 22 years old. READ FULL ARTICLE: 9/11: First My Childhood, Now My Freedom

Update: It’s My Birthday & I’m Breakin Outta Here!

If you read It’s My Birthday & I’m Breakin Outta Here, the big question is whether I made it out the house on Friday night? And the short answer to that question is “yes.” However, if you have some time to stick around, here’s how my day unfolded.

Friday Morning
Friday morning begin with Kinsley’s Meet & Greet at her preschool. I was determined to make one trip into the school, although I was also dropping off a large brown bag of school supplies for Kinsley. With Kaydence latched on to me in her BabyBjörn, and Kinsley walking closely next to me, I managed to heave the bag onto my left hip. Kinsley grabbed her poster board, another item on her list. But I must have looked like a wreck because one of the parents of the little girls in Kinsley’s class last year came over to help me out. Kinsley seemed so excited on our way to the school, but as she walked down the hall to her new classroom, she abruptly paused like a statue. Then the tears started to flow. She refused to enter the class. Evidently it was too overwhelming, meeting new teachers, new classmates, and a new classroom. A few minutes later she was finally calm enough to enjoy herself. I’m not sure what those preschoolers were thinking, but I witnessed children hiding behind their parents, desperately trying to make an escape to the playground area. It was nice to see how calmly the teachers reacted to all the meltdowns. As always, Kaydence was observing her surroundings and taking it all in.

Friday Afternoon/Evening
Finally we were back at home. I think the girls must have figured out that I had plans because they kept me on my feet most of the day. We played, we danced, we sang, we read books, we watched cartoons…you name it, we did it. Kinsley went down first for her nap. Kaydence refused to take a nap, instead choosing to nurse for another two hours. It was around 4:15 pm when Kaydence fell asleep in her bouncy chair (she refuses to sleep in a bed during daytime hours). Shortly thereafter, Brandon got home and I raced to the bathroom. I showered, curled my hair, polished my nails, did my makeup, and got dressed. Kaydence woke up around 7 p.m., and I decided to nurse her again until I walked out the door. She hates bottles, but Brandon was prepared to fight with her for the next 24 hours. My ride finally arrived. As I walked out the door, I went over to hug Kinsley and that’s when it happened. The kid felt like a sauna. I immediately took her temp and it was a whopping 102.6. Brandon begged me to leave, promising to get Kinsley’s fever down. I kept thinking what kind of mother leaves her child at home with a fever of 102.6? Brandon reminded me by answering “the kind of mother with a husband that can take care of the girls.” Needless to say, he kicked me out of the house with the mandate that I have fun.

Friday Night
We started off at the Cheesecake Factory, one of my faves! Our waiter was a charming young man that made the mistake of not carding us. Clearly I still look 21, right? I ordered a blackened chicken sandwich and sangria to drink. The fruit that garnished the drink taste as if it had soaked in the sangria for hours, and it was probably one of the best sangrias I have tasted. Wet Willy’s in Buckhead was next on our agenda. There were a lot of teeny boppers there, as I refer to those under 30, but we were dying to taste one of their drinks. I ordered a “call me a cab.” It tastes horrible, but I managed to get it down. No way was I wasting $10.00. And besides that, the name “call me a cab” made perfect sense after I finished it. Then we headed over to the Sage Wood Fire Tavern, a restaurant/lounge in Perimeter. The DJ played a really great mix of reggae music. We ended the night with tequila shots, an old time favorite since my college days.

Besides my texting and calling to check on the girls, I had to stop by their rooms to personally see that they were okay. Kaydence was smiling in her sleep, and I kissed her softly whispering a bedtime prayer. Kinsley woke up long enough for me to give her a hug, and check her temp. I kissed her and said a little prayer. My night was finally over… I was home with my guy and my girls.

It’s My Birthday & I’m Breakin’ Outta Here!

So here is a picture of me a year ago, still in my size 3 college body. We were celebrating my husband’s birthday at Luckie Lounge in Atlanta and I invited a couple of our friends out. To make a long story short, he must have really enjoyed his birthday because fast forward one month later on my birthday that same year, I’m happily knocked up with our second child.

For 37 weeks, I did what I do best when I’m pregnant. Eat. I gained 40 lbs. But thanks to good genes (yeah my mom is tiny), I have lost almost all of it. On April 1, 2010, I delivered my second daughter, Kaydence. That was 3 weeks earlier than my due date. I begged and pleaded with my doctor to keep her in for just one more day. Seeing how I could barely walk, and had been in labor since twelve midnight the night before, I guess it was inevitable that my doctor’s appointment that morning would end with me in labor & delivery. But seriously, who wants their baby to be born on April Fool’s Day (it was also Holy Thursday)? I’m starting to think God has a sick sense of humor when it comes to me because my 1st daughter, Kinsley, was born on Independence Day. So needless to say, I’m done.

Well my birthday will be here in a few days, and I’m finally breakin’ outta here. I’ve been cooped up in the house, nursing my baby and chasing my toddler around at the same time. I have mastered the art of cooking with my right hand, with a baby on my left hip, and a toddler screaming for 100% of my undivided attention. So it was a blessing when I received a text from Maleka, my line sister, my bestie, and everybody’s wanna be mom that truly knows it all (which is why I call her Ma Ma Leka). If she can’t help you, nobody can. She invited me out for my birthday, and YES I jumped on it after receiving approval from the hubby. Brandon is actually excited that I’m breakin’ outta here!

What about my girls? The closer it gets to Friday, the more I will question my decision to walk out the door. So I decided to write this blog entry today, hopefully to hold myself to breakin’ outta here. On Saturday, I’ll let you know if I actually made it out the front door.

The Best Advice that I Never Received on My Wedding Day

As I write this article, thumbing through my wedding album, I realize that May 3, 2003 was the day that my life changed forever. Not that I haven't experienced other great moments in my life. Nor have I failed to accomplish many of my goals in life. In my youthful innocence and naïve view of the world, I assumed these moments were equally important. Getting my learner's permit when I turned 15, my driver's license at 16, making the cheerleading squad, my emancipation from high school (or is that called graduation?), going away to college, being accepted into a top law school (although by graduation, you're not sure how you feel), and bringing in my first client to name a few. None will ever replace the overwhelming joy I experienced on my wedding day. And although I received tons of advice in preparation of my wedding day, the best advice was the advice that I didn't receive. Embrace every moment of your wedding day: your mother's smile, your father's grasp, and your groom's first glance as you walk down the aisle. READ FULL ARTICLE: The Best Advice that I Never Received on My Wedding Day ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON Tuesday, August 4, 2009