It’s been a minute since I did one of these, but I wanted to share some photos of things that I’ve been up to in life. Wanted to let you know that Munch just got his second quarter grades and got 10 A’s and 4 B’s. I’m over the moon. His award ceremony is this morning.
Munch had his flute concert last month. Here he is looking so handsome. He’s actually enjoying playing the flute and I will be doing private lessons for him.
My siblings and I at my brother’s wedding. I love this photo because I just colored my hair and it was popping. LOL.
Munch and I worked hard on his STEM fair project this year. Although he didn’t win he won an award because of his creativity and enthusiasm. He was ecstatic about it.
My sorority sister made me this beautiful plaque for my birthday last month. I love it.
Munch went to the dentist last month and had to get two silver caps on his teeth, but one fell out right at the dentist. That was two teeth lost in 8 days. Hilarious. But, I’m still flossing his back teeth. He can’t get those and I am tired of paying for these silver caps. This is the second one. But, what was best about this is that Munch and I actually went to the library first and he selected a book to read for fun and couldn’t put the book down.
Finally, I’m trying to devote more time to appreciate the beauty in life. I’m learning to bask in the glory of nature and release my mind from negative energy. I’m learning to redirect my thoughts and pray more. I’m fasting and trying to increase God’s presence in my life. I wanted some fresh flowers in my office and so I went to the grocery store and bought some tulips. The next morning they had all bent in different directions and I snapped a picture because it reminded me of life. Even though we’re in the same jar some of us are bending in different directions and it still looks magnificent.
That being said, me being a creative man, I gravitate toward things that are colorful and vibrant. By colorful, I mean that literally and figuratively. Women of color just astonish me. That means, Indian, Native American, African, Latin, Arabian, Polynesian, Asian and anyone else I left out.
Why do I Love Women of Color?
Not just because of a skin color, but because of the heritage, the culture they all come from and the history of said culture.
From the beauty and vocals of Dorothy Dandridge, to the dancing grace of Maria TallChief. Or, we can easily tout the powerful presence of Eva Peron or Tejano vocalist Selena Quintanilla-Peréz. What about the eminence of Hatsheput or the Mother of the Modern-Day Civil Rights Movement Rosa Parks? I find all of them the most attractive. Not just physically but on a much more profound level.
What About That Look?
That being said, I can’t leave out the physical aspect. The facial features, the various skin complexions, tones, contours and hair textures. Did I mention the accents? There’s nothing like a Latin woman born in the Northeastern section of the United States. Or, a woman born in Spain, Portugal, Brazil, Panama, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic or Costa Rica. What about the culture and beauty of an African woman from Nigeria, Somalia or Ethiopia? The storied history behind those countries’ women and all that comes with the heritage. What about an African-American women from all-over the United States? They themselves bring a certain uniqueness that I find most sexy.
From their level of intellect, charisma and fortitude, to their independent yet humble nature. That melanin carries historical perseverance and pride, while the tensity of their hair represents the strength of their people. How can you not find that beautiful?
These women are more than just a beholding of beauty to me. They are the very definition of perseverance and inner strength. Which, is so much more significant when you view women of color. You must look beyond the surface.
Women of Color Are Profound
Think of the native African or even the African-American woman and what they or their ancestors endured and continue to encounter in today’s society. Slavery, War, Segregation, Racism, Sexism, Discrimination, Genocide are all trials embedded within their beings. When you look at a woman from these cultures, you have to see more than a face. More than pulchritude. More than sexual commodity to be had. They are the essence of overcoming an oppressive state of being.
Women of color are born into a world where they are automatically at a deficit because of their gender. Even with the feminist movement and the rapid advancement of women’s rights on the rise in the United States and other countries. Women are still at a bigger disadvantage than their male counterparts. Add to that, a lot of these women are born into cultures where they are beneath the men and have to scratch and claw their way to prominence. There’s a certain beauty in that… a certain sex appeal. And a definite strength.
In a earlier blog I spoke about, “Dating and the Plight of the Black Woman.” I highlighted the literal canyon of obstacles black women have to overcome just to be seen as intelligent, desirable and beautiful in the dating world when compared against women of other cultures. To give you a small example, I want you to do something for me:
Pull up another window on your phone, tablet or laptop.
Do a google search on, “beautiful women.”
Click on images.
What did you see? What did you notice?
5 out of the first 100 images are of women of color. I would’ve gone farther, but I chose not too. You have already received my point. Women of color are not considered, “as-beautiful-as…” white women. This is the deficit that women of color face. They already have to work 5 times harder just to be viewed as beautiful. Can you imagine how difficult that is, in the world of modeling and fashion alone? That is unacceptable. However, as shown above, it’s a harsh reality for women of color.
That is how black beauty is viewed the world over. Vogue, Elle, GQ, Vanity Fair, Cosmopolitan, L’Officiel, Harper’s Bazaar, and more… rarely place women of color, let alone black women on their covers.
I for one, believe that all women are beautiful in their own unique way. No matter how they pull up in a google search or if they regularly grace the cover of internationally syndicated fashion magazines. Women of color will always be beautiful to me, inside and out.
This particular Saturday morning, I’m looking at my 2-year-old son playing with puzzles. He looked at me and said: “Mommy, this is too hard, but I got it.”
All parents have read about bed or morning routines. Even Daniel Tiger and Elmo have this covered. My family has always believed in the power of words or confessions. My mother confessed to my sister every morning: “You are the head and not the tail, above only and not beneath.” I believe (& think my SiSi would agree) that these words resonated in her mind when she wanted to throw in the towel.
Every night we pray for my son to be thankful for family, friends, and provisions. But additionally, I pray (out loud) for my son to be strong & brave. I never saw that world as a scary place until I became a mother. These glasses of parenting put a filter on everything as terrifying. Most importantly, I know the world will be unkind to a young black man. The joy he has today is delicate and needs to be preserved. I want to protect him, cover him, shield him… but I know I can’t. I can only pray that he always finds the strength to be joyous, strength to trust God and Strength to be brave enough to keep moving forward when the world will feel cold.
I guess, I never meant for this reflection to be so emotionally heavy. I am generally not that type of writer, but out of your heart flows the truth. Take the time to speak life over the children your world. Nieces, nephews, God-children, neighbors, & friends every child deserves to hear that they are loved and amazing.
Southern Fried Mommy
This post was shared by Southern Fried City Girl. I love her blog. She’s one of the newer blogs that I discovered and I’m happy to share her work. She’s a wife, a mom, a woman of faith and everything in between. Go follow her at her wonderful blog called: Southern Fried City Girl
Happy Wednesday to all of you wonderful people. I apologize for my absence. I’ve really had a lot going on both personally and professionally and truthfully, I’m exhausted. Both mentally and physically. That exhaustion has really drained me from being an active participant on my own site. For that I humbly apologize.
But, I love and miss you all dearly. So, I felt that at least I owed you some updates, right? Well, here goes:
Munch has been doing awesome. He made honor roll for the first quarter and he’s adjusting to fourth grade like a champ. I’m so proud of this young man. I can’t say that enough. Even when he frustrates me, nothing can stop my love for the child I gave life too.
His Christmas list has been robust. LOL. He actually circled $1,500 worth of items in the Toys R’ Us catalog. Umm, yeah. He’s not getting that. But, it was fun watching him. He’ll be happy. He was a good kid this year. Here’s his school photo.
Wreaths Across America
I laid wreaths with my sorority sisters on Saturday, December 16th. It was a wonderful day in DC with no rain, clear skies and a cool 50 degrees. We loved it. Thank you for sharing my posts about donations. Although it was my first year soliciting donations for Wreaths Across America, it won’t be my last. The cemetery has 14,000 grave sites and would love to be able to provide wreaths for all of them. Currently we are at less than 6,000. I’m going to keep pushing on. Here are some photos.
There was some fun
I had some fun too. I attended great parties with my sorority sisters over the last couple of weeks and we welcomed seven new women into our sorority earlier this month. Hanging with my sisters was an incredible opportunity for me to just let my hair down and have some fun plus it was my Zetaversary on December 3rd. One year down and a lifetime to go.
Co-parenting is a goal, but it ain’t reality
I need to make some changes in 2018 specifically with regards to trying to co-parent with my ex. It’s draining and I’m tired. T-I-R-E-D. Tired of the back and forth and tired of the frustrations with simple stuff. I’ve tried to have a positive attitude and perspective, but I swear that it seems that the more positive and unbothered I become the worse the situation is getting. I’ve read everything that I can about co-parenting and it seems like a fairytale. Like who are these people? What happened? How did you get from hell to a halfway point in your co-parenting relationship? My goal is still to try to co-parent the best I can in spite of, but I know that it’s not my reality. Maybe 2018 will be better. Please pray for us.
That’s about it everyone. All the updates I can spare at the moment. I’m looking forward to my break and spending time with Munch. I have a week long list of activities that I’m planning for us and hopefully we will be creating memories that will last a lifetime.
A moment of truth…It was Trayvon Martin’s death that made me scared for my son’s life. I was sitting there watching the news and seeing his mother’s face filled with so much pain and anguish that something broke in me that day. How could someone gun down a child? It wasn’t the first time it happened, but this was a local member of the neighborhood watch. It left me wondering how had this country changed. What could I do to protect my son?
In reality, it was nothing. I mean the country had elected the first black president in 2008 and we were worse off than I could ever imagine. Racism, hate and anger seemed to be spewing at him. But, I had a black son. I had a son that would grow up knowing that he was born in the year where America made a decision to elect a black man to the highest position in the country. Anything was possible. I believed my son could do anything and be anything at that point.
But, the country seemed to change. The color of his skin made the closet hate mongers realize that we as a people couldn’t be kept down. We could do or be anything. He endured. He endured people trash talking him, his wife and his children. However, something changed when Trayvon died. When he announced in that press conference that Trayvon could have been his son, I realized that he was acknowledging his blackness in a way that was never done. He was a father before he was a president. He was a man.
It was in that moment that I accepted that my son would always have a target on his back. I held him tighter. Many more deaths. Many more boys and men. Tamir Rice was only a few years older than Munch. I couldn’t understand. Philandro Castille and the country was in an uproar. It was a long hot summer. I was angry and wanted to do something. I am a mother to a black son. I had to save him. I proclaimed that I didn’t endure multiple attempts at pregnancy, bed rest and an emergency delivery to let him die on the streets like a dog. I had to stand for something. I had to do something.
But, what? Last year, CNN reported that black men are nearly 3 times as likely to die from police use of force than white men. I was scared. How could I keep my son safe? How could I help him to understand why I don’t let him play with toy guns. Why I advocated for clothing that showed him as an innocent non-threatening black boy.
It was at that time that someone added me to a group on FaceBook called Mothers of Black Boys United (MOBB). This group was amazing. I saw articles on advocacy. I saw support and concern from mothers all over the world. I saw women united for the sole purpose of making sure their black sons had an opportunity to grow up.
So, I joined. Not just the FaceBook group, but the organization. I wanted to make a change. Not just talk about it, but be about it. MOBB advocates to change how young black boys and men are perceived and treated by law enforcement and in society. I was now part of a mission to protect our black boys. It was bigger than me. It was a community of mothers committed to make a difference.
Yesterday was #givingTuesday all over. Many of you gave back with your charitable donations. It’s still time. Still time to give and help raise funds for a worthy cause. Can you please join me by donating to MOBB? Just click this link: Donate to MOBB
Your support is invaluable. As little as $1.00 can make a difference. Thank you for supporting.
Where Am I? I don’t know. It’s a simple question. But, I struggle to answer. Why? Because it seems that I am nowhere, but somewhere. Where? I don’t know.
I guess I would say that I am somewhere between bliss and exhaustion. Heaven and hell. Uncertainty. Indecisiveness. The location evades my consciousness.
So much has happened. In the world. In my life. In Charlottesville. Sigh. I can’t.
I’m tired ya’ll. You know that I’m tired of living in a society that values ignorance over humanity. I’m tired of living in a country where the color of my skin matters more than the content of my character. I’m tired of having to talk to my son about racial bias and yet educate him on the realities of racism.
He still believes in the tooth fairy. He still believes in Santa Claus. He is innocent. I have to protect him. So, I decided that I needed to take a break.
I took some time to gather my thoughts, pray and re-center myself. School starts next month and so does my busy season. I have to get it together. No more drama. No more negativity sucking away at my time, money or life.
One foot in front of the other.
Slowly and with determination and uphill. It doesn’t matter. Life is what is. No crystal stair, but there are stairs to climb.
I can’t stop.
I won’t stop.
Fighting for Munch.
Fighting for you.
Fighting for me.
Fighting for everyone.
My break has allowed me the opportunity to reflect on my journey and recenter my expectations. To realign my goals and just breathe this sometimes heavy atmosphere into my lungs and exhale the fear and frustrations.
Can I just tell you that I was tired ya’ll?
I’ve joined so many Facebook groups trying to learn and align myself with my tribes. To inspire others. To let people know that sometimes the enemy we face is our own self. When we look in that mirror and realize that we are blocking our own blessings. We have to be accountable. We have to hold each other accountable. Only then will we feel the shift.
The shift in our perspective.
We have to heal. We have to be better. We have to see that change is gonna come if we believe.
Munch has been with me this week and it has been so wonderful. I miss the scent and sound of my son when he’s away from me. Lots of hugs and lots of kisses and discipline too because my man child has gotten a little grown. He is talking back.
I will tell him something and then he’ll respond with a comment on what I’ve said. I had to tell him politely “Munch, not everything requires a response.” He still didn’t get it. He did it again. I responded “Baby, when mommy tells you to do something, your only response needs to be yes ma’m. No other comment is needed.”
Whew! It’s hard work being a parent. We try to lead by example and correct negative behaviors, but that sassy mouth has me wanting to apologize to my mother about my behavior when I was a child. I get it now God!
This week we had a ball at the church picnic, swimming and eating with some friends, attending the circus and of course doctor’s appointments were in the mix. First, the picnic at my church is an annual thing and we always have a good time chatting with the members, eating the good food and the kids have a ball dancing. Munch didn’t leave the moon bounce. AT ALL. I had to go and get him because he didn’t eat and it was time to go.
Sunday was a relaxing day by the pool. My girlfriend has a pool in her development and Munch got to swim and eat pool side. He loves that part. We order pizza and we can eat and relax and get back in the pool. Never missing a beat. He wanted to go on the slides, but he needed to pass the swim test first. I asked him did he want to do it. He agreed and of course passed. My baby can swim.
He’s been climbing in the bed with me more often. About 3 or 4 am he will awake and ask to get in the bed with me. I agree. I don’t ever want my son to not feel welcome in my bed. You may be asking “What happens when you marry Mr. C?” Munch will still be welcome or I’ll climb in the bed with him to soothe away any fears he’s having. LOL. Mr. C knows.
Munch had a dentist and doctor’s appointment earlier this week. We were in and out of the dentist office in no time and off to the doctor’s for his annual check-up. He’s in great health and doing just fine. But, it was weird this year at his annual check-up. The pediatrician had to check his genitals and Munch was laying down crying hard. I asked held his hands and asked him “What’s wrong?” He was crying and said “Mommy, I feel so embarrassed.” My heart hurt. My son is now embarrassed by being naked. The doctor was done in less than one minute and I told him that he doesn’t have to be embarrassed. I explained to him that the doctor is only allowed to view his penis with mommy or daddy present. Your body is a gift from God so you should never be embarrassed. But, it hurt me that my baby was embarrassed.
Finally, my week ended with us going to the circus last night. This is the Universoul Circus. Munch loves it. They play hip-hop, have cool clowns and great acts. It is becoming our annual date night to the circus. I have to pay for tickets, face painting, food and a toy. However, the look on his face as he tells me “This is the best day ever” is so priceless.
That’s my Munch update. He is going back to his dad today and I will miss the little one. Tomorrow I’m attending an event in the morning that I’ll blog about next week and my girlfriend’s birthday dinner. Have an amazing Friday and know that you are loved and appreciated!