7 is Awesome Right?

Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe. –Voltaire


For those of you that are new to the blog, in December I posted about the number 7 in relation to my cousin’s death and how it had been 7 years.  It was weird because I never thought about it but the number 7 seems to be all over and through my life this year. I’m both scared and excited if that’s possible. But, let me tell you what happened…

Last Sunday at church was a long one for us. We have both baptism and holy communion on the first Sunday of every month, so church tends to be about 3 hours on average. Unless the holy spirit shows up and shows out then the church service is liable to go over. Ah, but that is the great thing about church…the unpredictability when God takes over. So, I’m sitting there with munch right behind my mama and Ms. Margot ready to get my holy filled praise on.

Munch is sitting next to me smiling because he just turned 7 last Thursday and he was telling everyone. I’m 7 now. He’s over the moon right? Well, the service begins with praise and worship and then we are getting ready to do the baptism and munch turns to me and says, “Mommy, why am I not baptized?” I began to explain in a hushed tone “The baptism is only part of the process you have to accept and believe in God and Jesus. You have to promise to live to make him happy and obey him like you do me and daddy.” He whispers, “Mommy, I love God and Jesus and I want to be baptized.”

I got scared. I’m not sure why really. I think I was just overwhelmed by his declaration to want to be baptized. I mean he’s only 7. He believes in the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus and now he was absolutely sure he wanted to give his life to Christ. At 7? Is that possible? I asked him, “Are you sure?” “Yes, mommy” he replied. I was stunned.

I whispered to my mommy (I’m all kinds of wrong because service is going on) what my son said. She said, “Let him do it at the end of the month when we have Youth Sunday.” Ms. Margot overheard because you know that I can’t whisper well right? Ms. Margot replied, “No, if he wants to do it let him.” I sat back and smiled at my son.

Church continued and we welcomed the visitors and greeted the members in christian fellowship. I ran into Brennan’s godmother (our Assistant Pastor’s wife) and told her what he said. I told her that I was scared. She said, “Don’t be. It’s what you want right?” “Yeah, I replied, but it’s too soon right?” She smiled, “Not if he’s ready.” That was it. He was ready. It was his choice.

He was 7 and making the decision I didn’t think he would make until his teenage years to follow Christ. So, when the altar call came, I asked him was he sure one last time that he was ready to give his life to Christ and he said, “Yes.” I held his hand and with tears streaming down my face I walked him to the front of the church. We gave our information to the church secretary and waited until it was time to announce our decision. Munch was a candidate for baptism.

The pastor got on his knees and looked munch in the eyes and asked him some questions in which he clearly said his decision was to follow Christ and be baptized. He asked munch to repeat a prayer after him and my munch was so outspoken in his prayer. You could hear that it was his desire to live according to the will of God. I smiled and kept crying while saying, “Thank you God”. He’s 7.

It’s been seven years since my cousin died. Munch is seven years old. Munch will be baptized on the 7th of June.

Seven is awesome!



Happy 7th Birthday Munch!

Today at 11:18 a.m. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who weighed 5 pounds 15 ounces. He was so tiny and I couldn’t believe I was a mother. When I heard his cry I started crying tears of joy because God had given me a child. I was overwhelmed with gratitude.

I was so sick that I couldn’t really hold him the first 24 hours of his birth. I couldn’t nurse him because the doctors were afraid that I would have a seizure and drop him. I was spiraling in health, but God. God knew that this little angel in my womb was sent from Him and that we both would survive. We did.

It’s seven years later and I am in awe of who my munch is! I’m always babbling about the funny things he says or how awesome he is, but I mean it. I can’t believe how fast time has flown. I have 3 different birthday parties planned for him. The first is at school later today and then at church school with his class on Saturday and finally on the 16th of May we are doing a big family dinner at his favorite hibachi restaurant. I can’t wait!

I don’t know how I’m doing in this mothering thing, but one thing for sure is that I wouldn’t change a thing. My life didn’t turn out as planned and many days I’m just winging it, but I hope and pray that this little boy knows how much I’ve changed because of him. He has truly made me a better person. For that, I am thankful.

So, dinner tonight at Chuck-e-Cheese. Why? Because he loves the mouse and it’s his birthday!


Third Times a Charm

Last week munch took his swim test and unfortunately he failed again. Now, munch is in Youth Level 3 swim class at the local swim center and he can’t seem to get it together. This was his second attempt at swim and he missed more things on the swim card than last time.

When he climbed out the pool and ran over with his card, I already knew he had failed. How could I have known? Well, he couldn’t tread water for one minute. He was exhausted and had to stop twice. He couldn’t tread water and then do the breaststroke for 25 yards. It was like watching the first day of Level 1 swim class. He was struggling. He was out of breath.

But, I’m a good mommy. I kept putting my thumbs up and smiling every time he looked over at me. Why? Because he’s six and he needs my encouragement and support to not give up. He’s not crying (there was actually a little boy crying). He’s not acting like he’s going to drown (yep, this little girl refused to jump in because she was too afraid) and most importantly, he’s not giving up.

So, when I told him that he failed and would have to take it again, he started to cry. I said, “Munch, third time is a charm. We will get this. It’s not a race. You just have to develop your technique to move to the next level.” Lots of kisses to his face and I knew he would be fine.

Later though, I realized that it was probably my fault that he failed too. I fixed him a big breakfast 3 hours before class (hey, he said he was hungry) and when he took off his sweats and stood by the pool, I noticed that his belly was distended. More than normal. He looked like a starving child in a third world country. Ugh, no wonder he was exhausted. His belly was weighing him down.

Lesson learned.

Not Munch’s actual stomach. This is a dramatization.


5 Things I Want My Six Year Old to Know

Parenting is hard. Let me say it again…parenting is hard. Add working and being a co-parent and you realize that some things will slip through the crack. You know things that you wish you could teach your child. I realized that when Brennan was with me last week. His dad and I have a week on/week off co-parenting schedule and I am happy to say that my son has adjusted to this schedule like a champ.

But, I can speak from personal experience and say that I will forget things. His dad will forget things. Will Brennan think the worst of us because we forget to teach him something or will he have loved what we tried to do as his parents? I’m not sure, but here are five things that I want my son to know now:

  1. Knock. Always knock on a closed door. Whether it is in our house, your dad’s house or your aunt’s house always remember to knock on a closed door. I would hate for you to see a relative naked because you hate sleeping through the night. You have to get up at least twice to make sure that the adults know that you are still alive and breathing. That’s awesome munch! I promise you that if you actually sleep through the night you will wake up the next morning and I won’t need two cups of coffee to function.
  2. Parents get sad too. I’m sorry that you had to watch me cry when your dad and I separated. I’m sorry you had to step up to the plate and hold my head and comfort me. I wish I could go back and press rewind and spare you from the melodrama of my life. I tried to be a really good mom and shield you, but sometimes the loads I’m carrying are too much for me. I will get sad. I will cry and I will lie in bed all day saying my head hurts because I’m emotionally drained. You did nothing wrong. You are a joy and I just wish that you could always see me happy and smiling, but that’s not realistic.
  3. Parents make mistakes. I will be so hard on you sometimes that you will wonder what you did, but understand that I mean no harm. I am constantly juggling how to make you grow up a happy, healthy and functioning child of divorced parents that I will make mistakes. Like the time I told your dad that I can’t do everything and that I needed him to do something. I told him that I would teach you how to read and he could teach you how to tie your shoe. You’re 6 munch and I realize that Velcro shoes may be it for a while. Shoe tying is not all that important.
  4. You will be a jerk to a woman. It’s normal. Some men may think it is a rite of passage. But, you will know the power in an apology and you will remember that honesty is the best policy. Don’t string a woman along pretending that you like her and you don’t just so she will give in to your advances. Always be a gentleman. Be respectful and be of good character. Trust me if you don’t you will reap the cycle of your errors with your daughters.
  5. Put it in perspective. Things change. Life doesn’t always work out the way we want it too and sometimes we fail. We fail at marriages, jobs, relationships, school, etc. The thing that I need you to remember is that no matter how many times you fall, you need to get up and rise. Keep putting your best foot forward. Don’t let the circumstances of your life defeat you that you find no energy to try to succeed. You were born for greatness.

I want you to remember one thing munch… I vow to be the best mom that I can to you. I promise to put you first in all that I think or want to do because you matter more to me than anything. You encourage me to be better each day just by existing. Like last week when we were at dinner and I said, “Munch, mommy forgot to put on her watch and earrings.” You looked at me with the most sincere expression and said, “Don’t worry mommy, you’re still beautiful.” Don’t ever change.


Munch & Black History

My munch is in the first grade and decided that he would like to participate in the PTSA’s Annual Black History Month program. The conversation about participation went like this…

Me:  Munch, would you like to participate in the black history month program at school?

Munch: What does participate mean?

Me: You get to stand on the stage and recite facts about someone who is black.

Munch: Yes.

Me: Are you sure munch?

Munch: Yes.

Me: How about we talk about Nelson Mandela? You seem to be fascinated about his life and the fact that he’s dead.

Munch: Okay, mommy. You know Nelson Mandela died because he was old and sick right?

Me: Let’s work on this program.

As I sat there helping him work on reciting “Seven Facts About Nelson Mandela”  I started to get nervous. I prayed and relaxed. I told myself that it’s okay and to go with the flow.

But, in his performance last night I realized the following:

  1. He’s 6. He can remember a paragraph in 3 days. Wow!
  2. This is his first solo performance. No back-up of other children on stage. All him and he owned the stage. Go munch!
  3. He can’t fill 3 minutes. Next, we will work on public speaking and presence on stage. I will pull out my Toastmasters manual to help my munch.
  4. He will make mistakes and it’s okay. Even our President makes mistakes. It’s life. He talked really fast. He gets it from me though. LOL!
  5. He will forget something. He forgot a line,  but he is the only one who didn’t use a paper to read about his character. Again, 3 days folks!
  6. We may need to go back to speech therapy. I truly couldn’t understand some of what he was saying. Is that a lisp?
  7. I was truly proud of him because he’s smart as a whip and he showed real courage by standing on a stage reciting seven facts that he learned in three days with a crazy mom pushing him. For that, I’m truly honored to just be his mommy.

Even though I was like a maniac helping him to rehearse (I cut story time each night to focus on reciting and memorizing) he loved me in spite of my persistence. However, his dad did ask me to ease up on him because I was acting like one of the women on Dance Moms. I’m sure that wasn’t meant as a compliment, so I relaxed and was excited to see that he was #3 in the program. No time for nerves, munch. Let’s do it!

Check out these photos!





Check out the video of his presentation on my Facebook Page: Post by A Thomas Point of View.


The Fish Tales

I’m not a murderer, but I’m not good at taking care of fish. Particularly gold fish. I have a dog, that I love, nurture and care for like he is my own child. In essence, I guess he is. Bailey is my first-born. He is munch’s older “brother”. But, munch is a child that knows his own mind and decided that he would like another pet. Not Bailey. A new one.

So, he decided that he wanted a bird. We said no. “Why not?” he questioned. “We don’t think you’re ready for that responsibility” we answered. “Okay, I want a gold fish for Christmas” was his reply. We agreed that gold fish would be okay and off to the pet store I went to purchase three different gold fish on Christmas Eve.

He loved them instantly. He named them, “Max, Figureo and Bella”. Not sure of the gender, but it doesn’t matter to munch. He believes in gender equality. LOL. So, they were the new additions to our lives. Beautiful fins, color and they liked their environment. They were welcomed into our family and all was well.



Munch seemed to forget about his pet gold fish. They were just swimming along in their bowl not making any noise. All was peaceful. A couple of days later, munch went to spend a couple of weeks at his dad’s house. He soon forgot about his fish. Why? Probably that old saying, “out of sight out of mind”.

His dad asked him, “Do you miss your fish?” His reply, “No, mommy’s taking care of them.” There it was…the fish became my responsibility. So, I made sure to feed them and say hello and good night every night because that is what munch would want. And all was well…

Until, less than two weeks later when two of the three fish died. I thought it best to share the “circle of life” story with munch and to let him know that all things die. That his fish went to that big fish bowl in the sky. He cried. He was hurt. I told him, “I will buy you another fish baby.” He sniffled, “Okay, mommy. Are my fish with God?” “Yes” I replied.

I took the dead bodies of the two fish back to the pet store for a refund or more precisely to exchange the dead fish for the exact same species of fish that he had. Unfortunately, they didn’t have them in stock. So, I made a parental decision and got him a beautiful big black gold fish. I followed the instructions from the fish technician and put the new fish in the bowl with the other one remaining one.

Munch came home the next day and was excited. He told me that Max and Bella had died and Figuero was the one in the bowl. He loved the new fish. He said, “I shall call her Blackie. Blackie the gold fish.” I laughed. All was well in our house…

Until one week later when Blackie decided to die while we slept. Before we could even clean the bowl (because we were rushing off to school), Figuero died between the morning rush out the door and when we got back home that evening.

Munch was devastated again. We talked and I told him that I was returning Blackie’s body back to the pet store for a refund but that her spirit will live on. He asked, “Did Blackie and Figuero go to heaven with Bella and Max and God?” “Yep.” He smiled, “Mommy, I want more gold fish.” “Really munch? Let’s try some other fish. We’re not doing good with gold fish thing. How about a beta fish?” “No, I just want another gold fish.” “Okay” I responded.

As I cleaned out the bowl and tried to disinfect the smell of death in my house, munch asked “Where did you put Figuero and Blackie?” I looked at him ashamed, “Umm, Figuero is in a ziploc bag and going out with the trash and Blackie is in a ziploc bag going back to the pet store.”

He just stared at me. I turned my back and caught him rummaging through the trash looking for the body. I said, “Munch, get out of the trash. He’s gone.” He then looked at me defiantly and said, “I want more gold fish mommy”.

And so the fish tales continues.

The Little Drummer Boy

My church is awesome! Have I said that lately? I love my church and my church family. I’ve been a member since I was 16. I got married in that church, I got baptized there and dedicated my son at that church. Whew! You see the level of adoration I have for it right?

Now that my son is older. I put him in the Sunbeam choir (children 3-12) to sing to the glory of God. Why? Because I can. LOL. No really, my son has a beautiful voice and I tell him that we need to honor God by doing something other than just attending church. So, he is a member of the Sunbeams and he performed at our annual Christmas program on Sunday, December 21, 2014. They performed Little Drummer Boy.

Check it out.

The Number 7

Yesterday was an emotional day for me. I saw the number 7 everywhere. I woke up late at 6:27 a.m. I was late dropping my son off at school. It was 7:55. I got stopped at 7 red lights between my son’s school and getting on the beltway. I arrived to work late at 8:37. I got on a conference call that was supposed to be 30 minutes long and it ended after 37 minutes.

Seven was everywhere. If I was a gambling woman, I probably would have gotten a few lottery tickets with those 7’s in it. But, I don’t gamble. I remembered the significance of the day when I glanced at the calendar and began drinking my coffee. I knew why I was seeing the number 7. It’s been seven years since I lost my best friend.

Brennan Copeland (my cousin) was smart, attractive, attentive and loving. He was my best friend. He was the man I named my son after. He died seven years ago on the 15th of December. He lost his battle with cancer.

Brennan and I were like brother and sister. We were 9 months apart. He was my hero. God had truly designed a man to love me without restrictions, hesitation or ill-will. That all-encompassing agape love. Brennan or as we called him “Boo-Bop” taught me many things. He was full of charisma, intelligence and always had these quirky sayings. Many things he said, I couldn’t repeat on this blog, but trust me when I tell you that he had a sense of humor.

I was fiercely loyal and protective of Boo-Bop. I often challenged his love for me. I would cause drama in his life to test his love. See if that would stop him from loving me. It didn’t. No matter what I did he always forgave me. He loved me and had my back.

On December 15, 2007, seven years ago, I felt my baby move for the first time. I screamed for my husband. I told him that I felt the baby move. He reached for my stomach. I yelled, “Hand me the phone.” I called my sister. I asked her was it too soon?  I was 16 weeks and 3 days. I told her it felt like someone was tickling me with a feather inside of my stomach. She said, “Nope, that’s your baby moving. He’s freakishly huge. It’s quite normal for big babies to move.” We laughed at my baby.

Seven minutes after I hung up with my sister, my mom called to say that my cousin had died. Seven.

Seven years later and I started looking at the significance of seven and here’s what I learned about the number seven and my faith. According to Bible Study.org, “Seven is the number of completeness and perfection (both physical and spiritual). It derives much of its meaning from being tied directly to God’s creation of all things.” How awesome is that? Completion.

My cousin had faith. He is with God. Seven years later both physically and mentally I am in a much better place. I miss him immensely. But, I know that as I’m finishing this at 12:37 that he is truly watching over me and all that I’ve learned since he has passed.

Seven years later. I’m stronger, smarter and more aware of who I am more so than I’ve ever been. Seven.

There is completion and spirituality in the number seven. I’ve found peace and understanding in seven. Guess what? My word count is 577. Seven is good.


From the Mouths of Babes

My son is a good child.

Simple in his wishes.

He is six.

He can’t figure out when is Christmas.

We tell him.

He forgets.

He asks daily.

He sings Christmas carols.

He doesn’t get the lyrics quite right.

We laugh.

He told me that all he wants for Christmas is a stuffed bunny rabbit, a fire truck and a gold fish.

We are lucky.

No, we are blessed that God chose us.

A Song for Brennan

Because I am a mother. Because I am black. Because I feel pain. I wrote this piece.


“A Song for Brennan”

Almost seven years ago, I birthed a king

Difficult conception, difficult delivery, but I had faith

You see I knew death from diseases that you weren’t supposed to get

I knew what it was like to see someone you love lying in a casket as people wept



But I prayed

I prayed for peace

I prayed for my seed growing in my womb

I prayed for you my son


I imagined your face being a combination of me and your daddy’s

I imagined singing you to sleep every night with songs I created in my mind


Because Rock-a-Bye-Baby scared the hell out of me

No way were you going to be up in a tree in a cradle

With the dang wind blowing?

What kind of foolishness was that?

Mess I said

Besides I knew I would never let you fall


My job was to protect you

Like wings of an eagle, I would always be there

You were the angel in my womb

God’s favor over my life defined

My chance at redemption


I changed

I became a fanatic

Reading everything I could get my hands on

I wanted to nurture you physically, mentally and spiritually

I vowed to protect you


No greater love


It’s been an incredible journey my sweet boy

You’ve taught me how to love beyond measure

You challenge me

You inspire me

You love me

You question me


But I’ve lied dear sweet boy

Not because I wanted too, but because I had too

I couldn’t tell you the truth when you asked me about the police

I smiled away my tears as allergies when you caught me crying

I laughed and kissed you and said “Mommy loves you so much”

When you questioned the sadness in my eyes the next morning


“Is it me Mommy?” You asked

“Are you mad at me?” You questioned

“No baby” I responded


Truth is love

That I’m crying for all those mothers that lose

Lose their sons

For walking home from the store

For playing in the park

For walking to school




Being black

Because being black in this damn world

Is killing me

It angers me

That our children are dying

That you will never know

That in the midst of my tears for injustice

That I scream the names

For Trayvon Martin, Eric Garner

Michael Brown, John Crawford,

Jonathan Ferrell, Tamir Rice and the countless others

Who have lost their life

Because my dear sweet baby boy

I want you to know that

Black lives matter

You matter