Weekend Coffee Share – 8/27/2016

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I can’t believe that it is the last weekend in August. I would invite you in and sit down on the couch and invite you to curl up your feet while I get us two big glasses of iced coffee. It’s so hot here in DC that all you need is a cool glass of something going down your throat.

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I survived the first week of back to school. Munch’s bus picked him up on the second day and has arrived each day thereafter. Albeit late, but at least he arrives to school safely. I would tell you that he’s disturbed that no one has asked to be his friend yet. He’s having a hard time adjusting to the fact that he doesn’t have a best friend after a couple of days.

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I’m tired and looking forward to a relaxing weekend of doing nothing. I would tell you that while I’m optimistic that this won’t occur, I kinda hope to be able to just wash my clothes, my car and clean my house. Oh and to drink wine and sleep off and on while watching A Different World on Netflix. It probably won’t happen, but a girl can hope right?

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you how last weekend I took my niece to college. I said good-bye to my first born non-biological child. I didn’t cry. I haven’t talked to her and I’m happy she is adjusting to college life. I will send her a text and remember how I was at that age. I will laugh at the pictures she posts on Instagram and not comment because I don’t want to embarrass her. I will smile thinking about how I can’t wait to see her soon. Maybe I’ll take a trip to the mountains and take her to dinner.

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I really enjoy the Daily Posts that I’ve been participating in. I just discovered my love of fiction and I’m hoping you are enjoying the posts as well. Mr. C says “Oh, that was another dark and gloomy post.” I laugh. He only likes uplifting or realistic pieces. It’s cute though. However, life isn’t all happy go lucky and I like exploring the topic through a different lens. I hope that you will comment and let me know what you think one way or the other.

If you and I were having coffee, I would tell you that I have grown my followers by 50 in the last two weeks and I’m so excited. I would say welcome to my new followers and invite you into this blogging journey with me. I write everything about my life from parenting, dating, relationships, faith, poetry and short stories. I love people, life and I believe in humanity. One day we’ll get it right.

If you and I were having coffee, I would cut the visit short because I have to pack for my upcoming drive to Tennessee this Thursday morning. Can you believe it? I’m driving home with my mom and my Munch. Munch said it will take a 1,000 days but I’m sure it won’t. I promise to keep you posted on my road trip drama with my mama.  See you next time love!



This post is part of the #WeekendCoffeeShare with Part-time Monster.


She was 5 when she witnessed her mother sucking a man off in a dark alley to feed her drug habit.

She was 8 when her mother tried to sell her for a high the first time

At 9 she succeeded.

She was a witness to the dark sides of drugs.

She was a witness to child molestation as men raped her for money.

She was a witness to her mother’s death as she tried to steal from a drug dealer.


She hated being a witness.


This post is part of the Daily Post. Today’s word was witness.

I Feel There’s A But

I had dinner with my girlfriend last week and we were talking about me and Mr. C. I inevitably began to tell her what I always say “He’s just a great guy”. She said “I feel like there’s a but coming”. “No, but” I responded.

She smiled. I wasn’t ready to share what I thought were irrational thoughts. I just wanted to drink the big glass of Chardonnay and relax after a long day. The thing about sisterhood is that it needs no pushing or pulling. She knew when to ask and when to let me tell her.

We continued to talk and then she asked “So, what is it about this guy that you’re not saying?” I paused. I replied, “I just can’t help but to wonder is this for real? Is this really happening to me. Is this wonderful man real?” I went on to explain how I keep feeling like I’m being punked. She asked me to explain.

I told her how he says the sweetest things to me and I don’t know how to respond. Because the old bitter me (rightfully so) would think it’s Bulls**t but it’s not. He’s genuine. He’s wonderful.

She wanted me to explain further. So, I told her some of the things that he says to me. Here are some examples I gave her:

  • When he left me on hold too long. He clicks back over and I yell “You left me on hold too long. I was going to hang up.” He responded “I know and I’m sorry, but I would’ve called you back.”
  • When he told me that I spend too much money eating out and how he would change that if we were married. I sighed. I was already cussing this man out in my head. I said “How would you change that?” He said “I would just cook so you wouldn’t have to go out and eat.”
  • When he said that he’s just trying to understand me. I responded, “I’m a runner. When things get too emotional I run. I can’t deal.” He said that he’s not going to chase me. I asked “You’re not going to chase me?” He simply responded “No”. There was an awkward silence. He said “I will walk swiftly after you and when you get tired of running and fall to the ground, I’ll pick you up and carry you the rest of the way.”

Now, honestly what the hell am I supposed to say to that? I get stumped. I sigh. I smile. I inwardly pray that he is who he says he is. I wonder deep down inside am I getting punked. Why? Because I’ve had horrible experiences with men. I’ve also had some great ones but those are few and far in between.

Mr. C is patient with me. He doesn’t think I’m the kind of crazy that he has to run from. He just lets me get out my frustrations and insecurities and holds me tighter. He smiles brighter. He encourages me a little more.

In essence, there is a but to my relationship with Mr. C. My but is that I want more. I want us to continue to grow in the space and place of genuineness.  Where our communication will continue to flow freely. Where our thoughts and dreams will be interpreted with enthusiasm. Where our fears and angst’s will be listened to thoughtfully and squashed with fervor. Because in this place and space where we are existing, we remind each other that buts are okay. They allow us to seek clarity.

But, one more thing….He’s still a great guy and I’m forever thankful.


“I love you” I blurted out.

“I know” he replied.

This wasn’t what I was expecting. It was obvious that I was madly in love with this man and he just said that he knows. What the hell?

I tried to laugh off my embarrassment. I mumbled that I had another appointment and I would catch up with him later. He said “Okay”.

It was a year of this back and forth flirting, sexing and hanging out. I thought we were on the same page. It was obvious to everyone around us that we were a couple. It was obvious to me.

It apparently wasn’t obvious to him.




This post is part of the Daily Post. The word is obvious

Dead Beat Parents

Okay, so I have a bone to pick with dead beat parents. The ones that know that they have children and they do nothing to financially support their children. This applies to both male and female parents. I’m not picking on one gender.

Let me explain this clearly…

It costs money to raise children. You can’t raise children on sunshine and rainbows. Can they eat that? No. Can they walk to school or catch the bus on cotton balls? No. They need shoes. They can’t go to school naked. They need clothes.

I don’t care if you make minimum wage or a million dollars you have to provide for your children. That is a parent’s responsibility. Don’t want to be a parent? Don’t have sex. EVER. Why not? Because it is a possibility that you could become one.

I will NEVER EVER believe that it is okay for a parent to shirk their financial obligations to their children. The minute they were formed in that woman’s womb and you knew you were going to be a parent you should step up and do more. It is possible. Anything’s possible.

I provide support for my son. My ex-husband provides support for our son. It is not 50/50, but it’s acceptable. I provide my son’s health, dental and vision expenses solely. We split childcare. When my son is with him he feeds and clothes him. When he’s with me, I do the same.

I provide about 60% of my son’s care. This means that I pay for all his activities (swim lessons, guitar lessons, soccer, etc) and supplies (guitar, soccer cleats, balls, swim trunks, etc). I buy school supplies and tennis shoes. His dad buys school clothes. His dad isn’t working at the moment, but is still keeping up his end of the bargain with getting his son’s hair cut, feeding and clothing him.

Oh and he does the extras that I admire even though he’s not working. Being available to take him to doctors/dentists appointments on my week, following the school bus the first day of school to make sure that his son got on the right bus and got off the bus, getting his hair cut and splitting childcare expenses.

Now, if my ex-husband who is not working and is able to provide why the hell can’t some of these dead beat parents do the same? I mean what is the issue. I don’t care if you have to get a part-time job or sell yourself on the side to make ends meet you should always be able to provide something for your child. There is no excuse.

What’s even worse is that some of these parents think this is acceptable parenting. Let me help you…It’s not. When you don’t pay child support and you don’t have custody of your child it is a damn shame that you don’t buy your kids school clothes, tennis shoes, birthday or Christmas gifts. You then sit up there and act like you’re parent of the year.

You are not! You’re a joke. You need to step up and do better. Male or female. You need to know that these children have needs and you need to be able to meet those needs. Financially.

Okay, rant over!

Land of Confusion

It was kind of cold. Her lightweight jacket was doing minimal to protect her from the chill. The rain outside had pounded her umbrella and jacket. This weather sucks she thought. She descended the stairs in the big gray building. She was buzzed inside.

The hum of the air conditioner could be heard as she approached the counter to sign in. “Just sign in and we’ll call you up in a minute” said the heavy set woman behind the counter. Jade smiled and signed her name.

She sat down and remembered how important it was to be respectful. She thought back to all the many conversations she had with her mother.  You must always smile her mother would tell her. A lady always smile. It’s a sign of respect to smile. You never know dear, your smile could be the only bright spot in someone’s day.

Maybe if she hadn’t smiled she wouldn’t be here today. Maybe she should have been more angry. Practiced her “I don’t give a fuck look”

Niceties. It doesn’t pay to be nice she thought. She pulled her jacket up as she began to shiver.

“Jade Matthews” the woman behind the counter called. She walked up to the counter. “Can you please fill out this paperwork and let me know if you’ll be using your insurance?” she asked. “No. I’ll be paying in cash” she responded.

Jade took the forms and went to fill them out. She thought this day would never come. This was almost too difficult to bear. She sighed.

Name. That’s easy. Jade Lauren Matthews she wrote. Age 18. Date of last menstrual cycle. January 1st. Last date you had intercourse. January 14th.

She stopped. She began reflecting how she ended up here. She was confused. Her memory was cloudy. She remembered her birthday party a couple of months ago.

Her friends threw her a big party and someone had brought alcohol. She had never drank before but it tasted so good. It didn’t taste funny like she had always assumed it would taste. It was good and sweet. She had never felt so free. She danced the night away.

Tommy approached her for a slow dance. They danced all night. Slowly. He was so handsome. So perfect. He kissed her gently on her neck. Her cheek. Her lips.

It was her first kiss. She smiled up at him. She wrapped her arms around him lovingly.

He told her that he’d always loved her. He told her that she was beautiful and smart and desired by many of her classmates both male and female. She smiled. She liked Tommy.

He grabbed her hand and led her upstairs. She could barely walk. She almost fell and he picked her up and carried her. He whispered that he would never let her fall. She smiled. She was so tired. So sleepy.

She remembered him laying her on the bed. She remembered him kissing her slowly at first and then harder. He began pulling at her clothes. Her dress was hiked up and her underwear were ripped off. She began to fight.

She was too tired. She had no strength. She said “Stop”. He ignored her. He forced himself on her. He penetrated her with no regard to the fact that she was still a virgin. That she had never had sex. He didn’t care that she wanted to save herself for marriage. He wanted Jade’s emerald box.

Tommy raped her that night. On her 18th birthday she suffered the worst sex of her life. There was blood on the sheets. A little piece of her died inside.

Her friends told her not to say anything about the rape. Tommy’s parents are well-known. It will be okay. You will get past this.

She just listened. No words. Tears streaming down her face. It hurt to walk.

Two months later she was throwing up at school. It was a couple of months before graduation. She knew she was pregnant. She gathered her things and left school to buy a pregnancy test.

Alone she sat in her bathroom. This one test would determine her fate. Remind her of the worst night of her life. She peed on the stick and began the three minute wait.

It was positive.

Jade felt hopeless. She had to do something. She went looking for her parents. They were out. In her parent’s office she found their box of important items. She sat there opening it. All her baby pictures, their wills and their tax returns. She sifted through the pictures of her parents when they were younger. She smiled.

They were a beautiful couple. She was looking for the most important item in the box. She kept digging and moving items around until she found it. She smiled. It was exquisite. Her parents had great taste. Always had.

She ran a bath of hot water and added lots of bubble bath. She was too confused. She needed to clear her head and a hot bath always helped her to do so.

She turned on the music and lit the candles. The sound of smooth jazz floated through the speakers. The bathroom smelled of gardenias. She loved the smell of gardenias.

She stepped into the tub and let the hot water comfort her body. She began to relax. Her mind was clearing her from this land of confusion she was in. She grabbed the most important item that she found in the family box. She pointed the beautiful gun to her forehead and pulled the trigger.

Confusion over.


This post is part of the Daily Post. The word was land of confusion.


I’m learning to let go. To not think that I can control every aspect of my life. It gets hard. I get scared when things happen beyond my control.

However, today’s anxiety and trouble with the first day of school and the transportation office let me know that I must keep learning. Evolving. I have to be able to understand that sometimes there are things outside of my control. That I just need to relax.


Learning requires us to take action. To never stop. To be willing.

I am willing.

I will not stop.

I can’t stop.



This post is part of the Daily Prompt. Today’s word was learning.