Mommy Blues

Munch had his doctor’s visit last week for his annual check up. I actually had the school forms and camp forms ready to give to the pediatrician so I was excited that I was on point with the tasks that were still outstanding. Now, I had already had a rough day because he was supposed to be with his dad last week, but his dad was hospitalized (another story) so I became a full-time mommy with a full-time mommy schedule. That was hard!

So, that day was rough for me because I was off work, had a funeral, took my car in for an estimate (another story) and then we had the doctor’s visit. My girlfriend’s daughter watched munch while I went to the funeral and I headed over to get him so that we could continue with the day’s errands. When we get to the doctor’s office, I was actually 30 minutes early. They said, “No problem, we can take him back now.” What? For real? Bonus!


They do the standard measurements, height, weight, etc and then the doctor comes in. Now, I love his pediatrician. She is so wonderful. I remembered that she held my premature baby in one hand when she first met him, now he’s 7 and not so tiny. Which brings me to my point of these dang mommy blues.

After she did the examination of munch, completed the paperwork, she said, “Mom, he’s in the 95th percentile in weight. He’s getting too big. He put on 15 pounds since his last yearly check-up and we need to figure out how to slow it down.” What? He grew 3 inches. Are you serious? I said, “I bake everything, we get second portions of vegetables only. Yes, I do fast food when we have a late soccer practice, but not everyday. I don’t understand how this could happen? I keep him active with Tae Kwan Do, swimming and soccer.” She asked, “What about the sugars?” Huh?


I sat there like an idiot starting at her. She went on to explain that it could be the amount of sugar he’s digesting. I NEVER read the labels about sugar content. I sighed in exasperation and said, “This is hard. I never thought about the sugar content.” She told me to not be so hard on myself, but to ditch the syrup for breakfast on the waffles and only give him water and 3 glasses of skim milk a day. No more orange juice, apple juice or Gatorade. Water and skim milk. Ugh!


This parenting thing is hard. How am I supposed to remember everything? How can I read, research and apply techniques only to find out that they don’t work? I was so disturbed and distressed that I literally nodded and said, “Okay, I will make the adjustments.” Munch just sat there looking at me.

I said ,”Munch, we need to increase your water, cut your sugars and no more Gatorade or orange juice.” He looked at me and said, “Uh, okay mommy.” But, guess what happened? The next morning as I awoke to fix him breakfast and added syrup to his pancakes and poured him a glass of orange juice he said, “Mommy, I thought we need to cut my sugars. No more syrup or orange juice.” I replied, “After, we’ve exhausted what I bought then no more. I only added a teaspoon of syrup to your pancakes and you are drinking water for the rest of the day.” Dang child! He listens to everything.

Back to the drawing board. Now, it’s time to read the labels because I don’t want my child to suffer any health problems because I can’t seem to get it together and read the dang labels. I need to regroup and meal plan while reducing his sugar intake. More water, no juice in the household and we will incorporate bike riding into a weekly activity. I mean he has a bike that he doesn’t even know how to ride.

I will keep you posted.


Contributing Writer

Hey loves,

I wanted to share some good news…A colleague of mine is writing a book that she hopes to publish this summer about motivation, encouragement and empowerment to young women and she’s asked me to be a contributing writer in her book. Yeah!

I was honored and of course I said yes. I just submitted my piece and I’m excited to be sharing my story and telling my testimony.  I promise to share the information when the book is published and I hope you’ll read it.

I’m flying on cloud 9 right now.


Until next time.

You’re Missing the Point

“Racism, we are not cured of it,” Mr. Obama said. “And it’s not just a matter of it not being polite to say nigger in public. That’s not the measure of whether racism still exists or not. It’s not just a matter of overt discrimination. Societies don’t, overnight, completely erase everything that happened 200 to 300 years prior.” – President Barack Obama

As many of you are probably aware the proverbial s*** hit the fan earlier this week when our President used the **N** word.  Yep, let it sink in for a moment. He said “n*gger” on a radio interview and instead of focusing on the point in which he was making, the world had a field day.

Let’s be clear here…you’re missing the point of what he said. Let me translate for those folks so caught up on hearing the word that you can’t seem to get past what he said.

In plain speak “Racism still exists. There is no dang cure. Just because you don’t call me a n***** in public or show your open discrimination or dislike of me because of the color of my skin doesn’t mean that you’re not a racist and that racism doesn’t exist. (Sidebar: It also doesn’t mean that you don’t call me one when you retire to your home at night). That’s not how you measure racism.

What is wrong with what he said? Is it true? Absolutely. Can I relate? Yes. Do I walk around and call everything a race issue. No. Is everything a race issue? No. Some stuff can just be because you’re an idiot. But, the issue I have with society is that you want to act like the President can’t relate. You want him to run and hide the fact that in this country since he’s been elected racism has come full circle.  He’s a black man. The first black man elected to the most powerful job in America. He can relate.

Now, before you get your panties all in a bunch and say, “T – I’m not a racist.” No, I’m not saying you are. But, if you believe and act as though the injustices or quips that are made against black people don’t exist aren’t you just as guilty? Aren’t you saying that it doesn’t matter that people are disrespected repeatedly? Yes.

Please people, let’s stop trying to dodge the fact that there seems to be a target on the backs of our black men and women (including children). Let’s have real discussions and call people out on their discriminatory practices and acts. We don’t need the media to downplay a complete act of terrorism and try to say that it doesn’t matter.

The difference between the guy who shot up the movie theater in Colorado and the guy who went into a black church and shot up a bible study is the racial motivation. Are they both sick? Yes. Was it an act of terrorism? Yes. But, the guy who shot up the movie theater shot everyone including an infant regardless of race.

Both are tragic and both men deserve to be punished to the full extent of the law. I am praying for the families of all victims. I am sad that it seems that we keep focusing on the small inconsequential pieces of items and try to justify the crime in an effort to not talk about race. People, let’s do better.


For You

For all those who are too tired to run on.

For all those that labor tirelessly for the cause that never seems to end.

For all those that see the senseless acts of violence against my people.

For all those that know that racism is alive and present.

For all those that fight the good fight against the systematic injustices of my people.

For all those who know that the there is no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or no 40 acres and a mule.

For all the mothers that have buried children.

For all the fathers that fear for their sons.

For all those that see violence and oppression against our children and recognize it as terrorism.

For all those that watch our children get beaten, shot or assaulted and scream and cry in outrage.

You need to know…I AM PRAYING FOR YOU.

That your cause is just.

That your voice is being heard.

That you are supported.

That you are appreciated.

That you can worship where you choose.

That you will be safe.

That this is our country.

That the blood of your ancestors fertilized this land.





<> on June 21, 2015 in Charleston, South Carolina.
<> on June 21, 2015 in Charleston, South Carolina.


A man holds a sign up during a protest rally against the Confederate flag in Columbia, South Carolina on June 20, 2015. The racially divisive Confederate battle flag flew at full-mast despite others flying at half-staff in South Carolina after the killing of nine black people in an historic African-American church in Charleston on June 17. Dylann Roof, the 21-year-old white male suspected of carrying out the Emanuel African Episcopal Methodist Church bloodbath, was one of many southern Americans who identified with the 13-star saltire in red, white and blue. AFP PHOTO/MLADEN ANTONOV        (Photo credit should read MLADEN ANTONOV/AFP/Getty Images)
A man holds a sign up during a protest rally against the Confederate flag in Columbia, South Carolina on June 20, 2015. The racially divisive Confederate battle flag flew at full-mast despite others flying at half-staff in South Carolina after the killing of nine black people in an historic African-American church in Charleston on June 17. Dylann Roof, the 21-year-old white male suspected of carrying out the Emanuel African Episcopal Methodist Church bloodbath, was one of many southern Americans who identified with the 13-star saltire in red, white and blue. AFP PHOTO/MLADEN ANTONOV (Photo credit should read MLADEN ANTONOV/AFP/Getty Images)

More BBQ, Soccer and the Dang Heat

So, munch had his soccer BBQ to honor those who participated in Spring Soccer last week and it was hot. The humidity felt oppressive and I almost died from heat exhaustion. Okay, maybe not but you get the picture right? It was hot. Dang June in Maryland.

Munch was more concerned about the moon bounce than the heat and was drenched. They ran out of water which made me mad, but thankfully my girlfriend’s husband went and got us some. Crisis averted!

Some parents were out there playing soccer with their kids, but since it was too hot and I’m too old, I just sat in my chair watching munch in the moon bounce. He really isn’t into sports when it comes to a moon bounce. Moon bounces will win every time. I’m not sure about fall soccer, but we will see.

The coach gave a brief intro about each player and when he introduced munch he said, “This player is more concerned about having fun and will always ask me at the end of each game or practice, Coach how did I do today.”
I knew he was referring to munch and I laughed. My baby has no competitive spirit. His spirit is about fun. Oh well!

Here are some photos from this season including his soccer trophy:






Beer, Bourbon and BBQ

So, Mr. K and I were supposed to attend the Beer, BBQ and Bourbon Festival on Friday night at the National Harbor. Unfortunately, he got sick and couldn’t make it.



To say that I was disappointed was an understatement. I wanted to hang with my Mr. K, but illness was a part of life and I just took it as a sign. A sign that maybe the universe was trying to keep us apart. I know I’m dramatic, but just stick with me okay?


So, I searched high and low for someone to attend last minute and was thankful that my friend was able to attend. Nothing romantic. Just a great guy willing to help out a friend because he didn’t have plans that Friday night.

We had a blast!  Neither of us had ever attended, but it was something to do that was different. It was live music, alcohol and BBQ and cigar smoking. The food was awesome! I had the pulled pork because I’m from the south and we always eat the pig. LOL! He had the BBQ brisket and he said the pork was better. I also had to get a funnel cake. It was so good. No toppings. Just the powered sugar.

What else? The band was nice until it started raining. But, we needed the cool rain because it was so humid. I actually tasted and enjoyed some of the beers even though I’m not a big beer drinker. I would definitely go again!










Happy Father’s Day!

Today is father’s day and I want to wish all the men out there who are father’s or play a fatherly role to a child, Happy Father’s Day! We salute and honor you for all that you do. I know it seems that no one recognizes you and all your contributions, but trust me they do. More importantly, the children recognize your importance.

Here’s a poem I wrote in honor of my son’s relationship with his dad. I wanted to share what I think that my 7-year-old thinks about his dad. The first person that held him. The first person that kissed him. The first person that changed his diaper. His dad.





First love





My dad

Always knows what to do

Protects me from the dark

Holds my hand always

Tells me he loves me everyday

Even when I can’t be near him I

Call to remind him of my voice

He smiles and laughs and says

“You know I will never forget” and I nod

But, there is something about my daddy

That makes me want to always check-in and


The small things that happened

Talk about my day

For this man whose eyes and smile are a reflection of my own

Loves without thought

Gives without concern

And knows

That he is raising a king

His king

Enjoy your day loves!


Thoughts On Charleston

I love this posting. I don’t have words to speak on what happened in South Carolina, but my fellow bloggers do.

A Couple Talks

About a month ago, Emily and I drove to downtown Los Angeles. It was a drowsy, overcast Sunday morning and traffic was minimal. We were on our way to a friend’s graduation.

And then it happened. We got into a car accident. Fortunately, it was minor – no one got hurt – but by the reaction of the other driver, one would’ve thought the accident was an act of terrorism.

Once we collided, the other driver pulled up beside us, rolled down his window, and started yelling. “You fucking hit me! Pull the fuck over right now!” He actually hit us, for the record, but we did pull over. He jumped out of his car, stormed towards me, and the next words that came out of his mouth are the ones that I’ll remember forever.

Fucking Asian drivers.

He didn’t call me a gook, chink, or nip, but those probably would’ve…

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My Father’s Day Gift: Forgiveness

If you’ve been reading my blog you already know that I never had a relationship with my dad until recently. My parents separated when I was 9 years old and it was hard for me to figure out a way to cope with a man who chose to forget about me instead of love me.

Me in the 3rd grade.

It was many years and many failed relationships that I realized that I needed my dad. I needed him because he was the missing link in my life. I was broken and playing at being whole, but deep down inside my daddy was what I wanted and needed. I had to forgive.

Forgiveness is a process for me. It takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight. I am stubborn. I get that from my mama. But, I needed to truly forgive the man who abandoned me.

I can honestly say after three years of trying to forgive, I have. It happened when I went home last month for Mother’s Day to Tennessee. I went to visit my dad.

My son wanted to meet his grandfather. I had been nervously wondering about this meeting because munch is my everything. I didn’t want to allow my dad the opportunity to meet the little boy who was God’s greatest gift to me only to abandon him like he did me. I was afraid. I let that fear lead me. When my son asked, “Mommy, can I please call Mr. Frank grandpa?” I replied, “No, munch. Not yet. Let’s meet him first.” He responded by asking “Why? Isn’t he my grandfather?”

You see that? My fear was allowing me to control what my son wanted to have…a relationship with his grandfather. I let the conversation drop and went to visit my dad the Monday after Mother’s Day. I sat there nervously wondering how my son would react. My dad was creepy looking. I love him, but he hadn’t aged well and he actually looked like a burnt out Dick Gregory. But, I held fast to the belief that this was what munch wanted.

We got out of the car and I held his hand tightly. I walked him over to introduce him to my dad and he let go of my hand and ran to him and wrapped his arms around his neck and said, “Grandpa! It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Brennan!” Just like that. My son’s acceptance of the man he didn’t know but already loved allowed me to truly forgive my father.

Love. Acceptance. Forgiveness.

I love him for the person he was, but more importantly for who he wasn’t. Because I think my life turned out the way it was supposed too.

I accept the fact that my dad is an alcoholic and his monkey will never leave his back. He’s not hitting women anymore, but he still hits the bottle. Alcoholism is a disease and I accept who he is.

I forgive the man who abandoned me when I was a child. Who walked out of my life and never looked back. The man who created other children with other women and abandoned them as well. I forgive the man who stands before me because I see him not as superman but simply a man. My dad. Broken and all. I love this man because he is me and I am him.

So, this Father’s Day is actually pretty awesome because I’m openly loving the man who had publicly abandoned me. Telling the world that I forgive this man and love him. I’ve sent him a Father’s Day card for the first time in my life.

Happy Father’s Day Daddy!

My dad and munch sitting outside his house. – 5/2015


Today in Charleston

In memory of those who lost their lives last night at Emanuel AME in Charleston, South Carolina while attending bible study.

Nikki Skies


You pick the words today… I’m speechless.

This art is from my amazing friend, Sage Gallon.

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