From Crack to Quack ~ Happy Anniversary!

So one year ago yesterday, my world changed as I knew it. The last piece of innocence I held on to was taken right from under me. I look back on this year and I have to marvel at my strength. I was taken through the ringer and left on the side of the road to dry. It seemed like I dealt with a different crisis every week. From neverending ringworm to behavior decompensation. I saw it all. I felt it. I went through it. I survived it.

My faith was tested and in the midst of the fire, it grew.

My child is still not 100%. I am still dealing with a lot of the issues that stemmed from his ordeal. However, there are some things that are changing. His demeanor has changed somewhat. He doesn't look so aggressive or so on the defensive when I pick him up after school. It's like he knows he is safe at his new school and that brings me a measure of peace cuz I fight lil kids,even multi-racial ones.

Today is doubly special: It's my 6 month creamy crack free anniversary and my 1 year issues that I can't stuff and gots to pay someone to help me anniversary!

So it has been a year since I picked up the phone and called CQP and honey, I should have followed my 1st mind and kept it moving. It was something about him that told me he would be a hot mess, which is why I didn't call him back. He called me back and asked if I was still interested in him seeing me and my son. I should have told him h e double L NO! But had I done that I probably would still be stressed the heck out and still stuffing any and everything that I came across instead of dealing with it.

He has helped me help myself by being so annoying. I mean all his prying questions. His bad attitude. Sarcasm. His genuineness. All of these things gave me the push I needed to get up, dust myself off, lick my wounds and keep it moving. I wanted to plow down doors just so I didn't have to hear his bootleg analyzing of what my issues were. There were/are a lot of people who felt we were too close and well that could be true but even the fact that I would let someone get so close to me that others would comment is a testament of how much I have changed.

He was the right person for the job, bootleg and all.


I have been natural for 6 months and I can't believe it. I used to have to get a touch up every 4.5 weeks. I laugh every time I think about how "nappy" my hair was with a perm.. Look at me now, these waves will make you love me...no really.

I have grown so much with my hair. I still hate wet hair, but I see the world differently. I feel as spunky as each curl. I know that some days will be straight, uneventful, and others will be non-stop action with twist and turns every which way, and still some will start off uneventful and wind up being all over the place, and finally, some will just be rough around the edges because it be's that way sometime....kinda like my life : )

So enjoy the pics of me and my growth:

"Resilience is something that keeps me coming back for more...(yup a sucka for punishment) Endurance is something that keeps me staying the course (too headstrong to quit) and LUV is something that keeps me from killing those that have made my journey unpleasant at times (I secretly love my freedom)."

~Gotta Luv moi, I surely Do (smooches)

Just got it chopped off




Day 2 oooh look at them naps lol




2 months of growth
















It's official, I bes that attorney...told yah I looked fly



Look at all that hair...

Half-a-dozen In One

..... And 6 in the other

People are always going to see things differently. I can't control that...and well, I am not going to worry about it. I can't. This isn't about them, they can't walk in my shoes. They can't give me that time back. They can't heal me. They can't make me whole. And sadly, they may never understand where I am coming from, or where I need to go.

I want to be free....I shall be free!

So, I contacted the RAPIST. It's so releasing to say those words. And to say them to the person that caused me to hate all men, women, children, living and non-living things...what a rush. Not like walking around the rim of "that big hole," but a rush nonetheless.

I really had nothing prepared....had no expectations outside of that I didn't want to run. I didn't want to shy away from whatever I was feeling in the moment. I wanted to know, without having to question over and over years from now, that I was okay with this. That I wasn't selling myself a wooden nickel. I mean if I am going to do this journey and revisit all the hurts, pains, truths, etc, I might as well do it 110% or there is no reason for me to do it.

When I said I was sick and tired of being in this rut and finding myself back in the same valley with the same bitter, never-want-to-see-anyone-get-ahead people, I meant it. I am tired of being handed the same test and receiving the same grade. I am READY for the next course.


So it has taken me 10 years to get the validation that I needed to be at peace with myself...but I have it. It wasn't so much in the words he spoke, because that joker needs some help. He needs God's mercy. He needs to pray that I NEVER stop walking with God. But it was something about him admitting that he raped me...something about him saying the words that caused the dams to my soul to erupt.

I knew I had been raped. I knew I had said, 'no.' I knew that he had heard me. I knew that I didn't lead him on. I knew that I didn't deserve to be treated like that....but there was this twinge of doubt. This spot of uncertainty...because why would someone be so cruel to me when I had never done anything to them. So, maybe I had consented and not realized it...maybe I just felt guilty about giving in and wanted to ease my conscience...maybe...I don't know...but the fact that my mind wasn't buying into the madness let me know that there was no maybe nothing!

Listening to this fool pluck at straws and trying to turn the tables and have me made to be the culprit was...I don't know... Most of the time I didn't even have any feelings. I was so detached and so in awe and so stuck on the fact that all this time I had been stuck and afraid and doubtful and so not myself for someone and something that was so not worth avoiding for ten years. I mean here it was this joker was telling me AFTER I told him that I had hated myself instead of him for ten years for allowing him to rape me that he had been thinking about me, wondering what happened to us, and now he was hoping that we could work on being something.

PAUSE...yeah you read right.

This fool went on and on about how he had a right to redeem himself....to work things out... to make amends...to make things right...and that I owed it to OUR dead son to give him that chance. That I was brought back into his life for a reason and he was willing to do whatever he could right now in the present to make it right...to restore our relationship. And after I laughed at him, he switched it and said that I was wrong because I messed with his brother. I was wrong that I kept it from him that I was pregnant with his child. That I was wrong for rolling in his shop and playing his face in front of his boys and then playing his face on the street the next day. That I had him thinking all these years that he was crazy.

I am thinking that this ninja should know without a doubt that he is 10 shakes pass crazy if he thinks I owed him anything beside a bullet to his head...either one.

I may never ever get complete closure but what I got is enough to let this wound finally close and heal properly. I have taken that scab off for the last time...and the tears that flowed the moment I disconnected the call let me know that I am more than okay...I am like Johnny 5; I Am Alive! The fact that I wanted and acknowledged that I wanted to be comforted by the human touch...human voice and not by baking soda let me know that I am ready to trust and ready to let all sorts of people in. The fact that I could not get in touch with anyone and that I still didn't "take to the box," let's me know that I am ready to release myself from that addiction. The fact that I did not shy away from what I felt or mince my words or take on any of the exchange of energy he was trying to throw at me, let me know that this growth that everyone is seeing isn't a fad. The fact that I got up this morning after only 2 hours of sleep with a smile on my face and a pep in my step, let's me know that I am finally free of that valley and I am anxiously awaiting my ascent to the top of the mountain cuz I have truly found my wings with this long overdue dose of FREEDOM.


"Sometimes you have to stand in the fire in order to put it out, suffering minor injuries, while saving your life."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

I Guess I Am In Good Company

I've been busy y'all. Busy living and loving, and loving and living. And it feels good. Each day I am excited to see what new thing I am going to discover about me...or better yet, what new things someone else is going to notice about me. I feel like a new person since I have been doing all this purging. I feel like a weight has been lifted since I have exposed MOST of my sins...can't tell it all, oh the Po-Pos will be knocking at my door.

It's funny how much of the old me is turning up in this new woman I am transforming into...So much of the me that I missed that I thought was dead. I don't have many vices. I am pretty much a homebody. I would rather shoot the bo-bo and watch movies with my inner circle than go out all night partying. UNLESS it is my school's homecoming, then LUV gets it in. I will go out and shake it like nobody's business. I still don't really drink...I ain't afraid nor ashamed to say I can't hold my liquor. Chucky and CsB probably can hold their liquor better than me. Imma have to bring wine coolers back...but even that's too strong.

I like to eat good food. I like to laugh even if it's at myself. I like good chocolate cuz yes there is some nasty chocolate in this world. I like to play games (cards, dominoes, board games, Wii). And I like to go to plays and concerts. I love good music. I used to treat myself to a concert at least once a year...depending on who was coming to town, sometimes two.


But somewhere along the way, I stopped being good to myself. I stopped doing things for myself and I missed that...I can't say it is a finance thing cuz money has always been funny over here. So a couple of months ago, I took myself to see Monica, and she sang her tail off...had me in there remembering why I loved live performances so much. Well, the other day, I took myself to see Ms. Fantasia. I drove the 2 hours to Richmond in 5 hours (don't even ask) got there to find out that it was going to be outside (it was 103 degrees) and I was in a dress (looking good for myself) and my cousin's friend didn't bring me a chair like she said she was (yeah, I won't be inviting her to join me again) and the hat I brought only served to help me look like I was set to pick cotton. (hello Celie)


To say that I was perturbed would be an understatement. I could feel my head start to tighten and not just cuz I was losing what looked like a gallon of water from my body by the minute. I hate being unprepared. But, right before I was getting ready to move from agitated to pissed off, I reminded myself that I had a choice to make and depending on the choice I made, it would determine how good of a time I had seeing one of my favorite singers.

Let's just say I am soooooooo glad that I made the choice to #makeitdowhatitdo and have a great time inspite of all of my challenges. My not having a chair made it easier for me to get up to the stage to be close and personal with Ms. Tasia who said she wasn't coming out on stage until they removed the gates cuz 'she wasn't into segregating her people' (i know that's right) and my choice also made it easier for Ms. Tasia to grab my hand and hold it for awhile as she sang this song, while watching the tears run down my doublecrispy face (cuz at 10:00 pm it was 100 degrees outside)


This is one of my favorite songs off her upcoming album...

"Sometimes in life we lose sight of the fact that we didn't come into this world walking or running, that there are stages and processes for everything, and no one but God is immune from having to learn how to do something, cuz even angels have to receive instructions on how to do their job...so when you crawling, remember, you are in good company."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

Pushing Pride to the Wayside

Today is the day that I am throwing her all the way out the window, cuz Pride will make you lose your mind up in here up in here. Pride will have you go hungry for months. Pride will make you do a job that you really aren't skilled to do. Pride will make you abuse your kids instead of giving them up. Pride will make you suffer in silence instead of getting help. Pride will make you stay in a loveless marriage. Pride will make you give up on your dreams to live somebody else's. Pride is the sin that did a whole lot of people in......

And well, PRIDE, I am about to take away your power and dismiss you from my life.

I am was in therapy because my son needed to be in therapy. But the truth of the matter is, I should have been in therapy BECAUSE I needed to be in therapy. I needed to unleash all that stuff I had been stuffing for 30+ years (yeah, I know, I look good for my age, it's true, black don't crack) and I needed to unload it in the worst way. Honey, bags?!?! I had army trunks that I was dragging behind me. I didn't need to worry about missing my bus, I was moving so slow that I wasn't making it off the block, let alone to the bus stop.

I had too much "stuff" with me. No wonder I was attracting these deadbeat, goodfornothing, low lifes. (calling a spade a spade cuz honey I dated a homelessman, as my PIC always like to remind me) Them bums knew that I couldn't get away, that I had too much stuff to even think about running. They knew I was so weighed down with all my crap that I wasn't even going to fight them off...I had been dragging that mess for too long.

NEWSFLASH: most of that crap is gone, and I realized that 90% of it didn't even belonged to me, and in the midst of sorting through all of this crap, I found my favorite pair of Air Nikes, and they still fit...I'mma a beast on the track, will make you think I trained with Flo Jo....lowlifes can't catch what that can't see.

I have been hurt by a lot of people. I have let a lot of people into my circle that were not deserving to have a ticket to any of my events. I have had funny colored letters come in the mail informing that this or that was gonna be cut off. And true to their word, some of those things did happen. I have sat in the dark without food (sometimes cuz I was too bogged down to go buy food or go pay my light bills and sometimes cuz I didn't have the money to do either) I have been kicked out of a wedding because I didn't know how to tell them that even though I was honored and thrilled to be their Maid of Honor, I didn't have the money to get my dress. I have hurt people on purpose. I have hurt people on accident. I have had my wages garnished by the IRS. I have had several liens placed on my house. (hah, in this market, when do you think I will get a chance to sell? So lien with it and rock with it...I don't care) I have stayed in the company of negative people simply because I felt obligated to be there. I have had a fungal disease that has taken years to get a handle on (thanks Xavier University) I have bleed through my clothes a many of times in public. I have hated myself. I have wanted to end it all. I have hit rock bottom on several occasions. I have thought about having an abortion. I have suffered in silence in depression. I have done a lot of things that I am not proud of and that I hid....

But, I am human. I have fallen, been pushed, knocked down on NUMEROUS occasions, but I have now chosen to get BACK UP.

I am here.

And I am loving it!

"Just because it seems like it, doesn't mean it is. Everyone has their share of dirt on their hands, some just know how to blend it in."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (smooches)

Thursday's Therapy (2 of 2) ~ Suck It Up

Life isn't fair.


I know this.


I have known this.....



BUT


I don't cannot accept this.







I cannot accept that unqualified people will always get the promotion that someone else deserves simply because they know the man sitting next to the gosh darn man.





I cannot accept that irresponsible people will always find someone to pick up their slack therefore never being forced to act/be responsible.





I cannot accept that simply because I did not create the problem that the problem is not mine to solve.



So, my sister has had another baby. Her 3rd in two and a half years. It's funny what's important to people when they have their own garbage and mess all locked up in the closet. I say this because when people hear this they always go off on a tangent about birth control. Birth control won't fix her or the problem. My sister needs help. I know this. . Her parents know this. Even Chucky's Bride knows this. It would appear that my sister is the only clueless one. I understand her plight....well, I get it. She is searching for love. For something or someone to love her. I am on that same journey, just a different road.



I knew babies came to be loved, not to love. This is why Chucky's only living siblings are on his paternal side. This single parent stuff is for the birds. Believe that. I mean I have seen people who make it look easy, especially when they pulling in the big dough and got an army ready to support them, standing behind them. I'm not sure who my sister has outside of her mother.





I'm not sure who I have. I'm not sure what I would do in her situation. I'm not sure of a lot of things right now. But, I do know this. I have to keep this baby, even though deep down I don't want to. I have to break the circle or at least make an attempt. I have to stand up to my family's demons. I have to affect the change I wanted to see when I was growing up a motherless, fatherless child.

So since I received that text that stated 'bad news, you gonna have to keep her til December' I have been pouting and stomping my feet. Shouting what about me? What about what I want? What about what I want to do? What about all my plans I have made since your last text that you were getting her June 19th and keeping her? What about...

Yeah, it's not about what I want, it's about what I need to do...

Farewell Never Neverland.

"Life isn't fair. Many times on this journey we will find out that the choices we have to make are not necessarily the choices we want to make, they are simply the ones we need to make. Life comes at you fast, make sure you react accordingly."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

The Bare, Naked Truth

Being vulnerable isn't one of my strong points.


If I could have any super power that I wanted, I think I would ask for invincibility just so that I would never have to be vulnerable...EVER AGAIN!


I didn't always used to be this way...I didn't, you can ask my ICE. He just said to me the other day:

"What happened...you weren't always like this...I just don't understand."

Yes, I used to be sure about my decisions and about myself and about my value. I used to have haters galore.


It happened 10 years ago this time. Them babies. That entire ordeal. It just took everything good that I had left in me. It killed my spirit. It shattered my already broken foundation. It altered my reality...it damaged me beyond compare.

It is what it is. I do not try and make excuses for it. I do not try and burden people with my sorrow or my problems. I do not try and let people know how badly I am really hurting. But I will try and explain the method to my madness and rehash why that was the straw that broke Luv's back.

Yes, I had a horrific childhood. I know this and I had accepted this BUT what I didn't accept at the time was that I was unworthy of being loved and incapable of giving and receiving it. I had determined that my parents were too screwed up to effectively love anything else because they didn't even love themselves. I had determined this at the age of 7.

I don't drink because I don't think I would stop because quiet as it is kept, my father is/was an alcoholic. Not too sure what he is now because I ain't checking for him. I know the power of genetics. I know how much environment over nature can influence a person. I understood the dynamics of this probably by the age of 8.


I say all of this to say that I was very skilled at identifying the situations around me for what they were, processing them, and discarding them in such a fashion that they did not damage me...did not take away from my emotional cup.


I remember almost everything about my childhood, but this one incident stands out to me because it has always puzzled me why I held on to this memory...why it bothered me so. I was in first grade. My mother and father were going through one of their violent spells. My father tried to smash my mother's head in. My mother left. She eventually came back to get us. We were hiding out in my aunt's apartment. I remember that on most occasions that someone else would come pick us up from school because I don't think my mother wanted to chance meeting up with my father and they got to humbugging out in front of the school. But on this particular occasion, she got us herself. I remember we stopped at this grocery store where we ran into my 1st grade teacher. I remember my mother feeling some kinda way about running into my teacher. I don't know if it was because she was white or if it was because we stated we were going home and she made mention that she thought we lived elsewhere. I remember Ms. Lovely looking at my mother and patting her and telling her that if she needed anything...any type of assistance to just let her know. I remember my mother mumbling as we were getting into the car that we couldn't stop at that grocery any more on the way from school.


I think in that instance I learned that no matter what, you never let anyone know how bad it really is.


Fast forward: So, up until the incident with my twins, I had seen and learned a lot of dysfunction; but, I was able to insulate myself from its brunt force by believing that I could rise above the madness. That I could escape, scratchfree. I believed that once I got away from my parents and that environment that I would be okay. That people would instantly love me. That I would prove that I could and would be different. That I would love myself. (and I did) And most importantly that I would love my kids...but the powers that be were telling me that I wouldn't be able to have kids...so, I would just adopt...no need or time to cry about something I couldn't control I needed to keep that forward momentum.

I allowed this dude who I knew was sweet on me to come visit. He had been sweet on me for a long minute. When I was 16, I used to feel him undress me with his eyes. He was like 29. He didn't phase me, I was going to marry Michael Jordan. I had no time for little people. So, anyways, this dude had caught up with me on one of my many trips home and asked if he could stay with me if he came to visit the nation's capital. Yeah, why not? I had had plenty of dudes stay with me and nothing happen. There was no need for alarm, right? Plus, I wasn't 16 any more. I wish I could say that I didn't have any reservations, but I did. So much so that it prompted me to call this dude and ask what his intentions were, explaining that if he thought he was gonna get some, he should cancel his tix could he was gonna be severely disappointed. I told him that I didn't like him like that and that I was a virgin, saving it for my husband(I had been celibate for 2 1/2 years but he didn't need to know that). So he comes and the first night everything is cool. The second night he rapes me. I confide in some people and then try to push on. I didn't want people worrying about me and I partly blamed myself. I had doubts, I should have told him he couldn't come. Yes, no means no, but still....


Shortly thereafter, I found out I was pregnant with twins. I was soooooooooooooo excited. I charted and plotted everything about them. I was so in love. My pregnancy was very difficult. I found out that there are a lot of ignorant people in this world disguising themselves as intelligent people. While I was fighting for my babies lives, there were people praying that I would lose them since I wouldn't abort them because I must be out of my mind to want to have a rapist baby. (Funny, cuz I only looked at them as being MY BABIES) See, them babies were my chance to prove to myself that I could love. Them babies were my chance to prove to myself that I could be loved. Them babies were my chance to start my own family and break the cycle. To show that God hadn't forgotten about me and that He would allow some sunshine to shine on me...when them babies died it was like someone had turned out the lights.


When my babies died, I was lost. I didn't know what to hold on to as truth. I knew God could not try me with anything evil because HE is pure. But, I couldn't figure out why He allowed me to go through something so awful after all I had been through in life. I couldn't understand why He thought I could go through something so heinous, and all alone. I couldn't understand why everyone wanted to hurt me, when all I wanted out of life was to be happy. To love and to be loved. I couldn't understand why I was constantly turning the other cheek just to be crapped on again and again. So, as the days turned into months, I stopped talking to people. I just wanted to be left alone. If I was by myself, the only one who could treat me badly would be me. And being alone all the time, I started allowing the negativity that had been chasing me for so long to catch up with me. Then I stared listening to it, digesting it, and before long, I was believing and living it.


See, it's hard to make a person understand what I was before because a lot of them only can see what's in front of them. I am just a fraction of what I used to be. I mean, I was so fierce, I used to hate on myself. (smile) I used to travel on a shoestring budget. I used to give gifts straight from the heart. I used to have fun and really lived the mantra that what you thought of me was none of my business. I used to do so many things and I still can, and I will, it's just..

I see the way you look at me, I see the pity in your eyes, you feel sorry for me...for what? my story is not that different from someone else. We all go through our trials and tribulations. We all have to carry our own torture stake. I can't take your help because it comes with strings attached. I can't take your help because you don't really see me. You see this shell of me that stands before you, you don't see the me I used to be or the me that I am going to be. You don't see that you have yet to make me feel human, to make me feel connected.


I am vulnerable with my Ice because he knows my story. He does not pity me. He does not patronize me. He gives it to me straight, no chaser. He has seen what I can do. He believes in me. He loves me. He connects with me, letting me know he knows I am human.


"It's something about the human touch that can make a person feel safe, it's something about a smile that can lift the heaviest of spirits, it's something about tears that can cleanse the soul, it's something about letting go that will push us into the future."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (Smooches)

It's Been A Long Long Time Coming

And, it's time for me to stop numbing the pain.


It's funny because I don't even remember when I mastered the art of defusing pain. I know I have a high tolerance for physical pain...but I am not sure when I totally became numb to the emotional pain.


The memories used to haunt me, daily. Used to keep me up at night, shaking. I didn't want to close my eyes because I didn't want to slip into the realm where it felt like I was reliving it again. At least with my eyes open, I knew that I was just daydreaming and that the harsh realities of my visions had already come to pass.


I had forgotten the pain I felt growing up as me. I had forgotten what it felt like...I had forgotten how painful it was for me to be powerless in saving my babies..I had forgotten why the windows to my soul always looked like they had a murky haze on them.

I lost myself in my book. I lost myself in my job. I lost myself in worthless men. I lost myself in food. I lost myself in despair.


I know me and knew that something was heavy on my soul that needed to be addressed, but I could not pinpoint what it was. I thought it had to do with me blaming myself, so I discussed that but the feeling did not go away. I thought it was about me giving up on my child because I was taking his acting out so personally. So I discussed that but the feeling was still there. I thought it was this, I thought it was that...still no release from the tightness and the heaviness growing in my heart.

I had been planning on blogging about how Chucky and his bride were progressing. How the category 6 storm had downgraded to a tropical storm. How things were finally settling down and I was getting a lil' more peace in my house. But I received a text from my sister yesterday informing me that she will be coming to get Chucky Bride soon and that she is about to have yet another baby. And I immediately texted back asking her what is she going to do with this baby and asked about my nephew that is now 1 yrs old that she walked out the door with when he was two weeks old and never returned with. I mean you have 2 kids and someone else is caring for them...and now you about to have another. Birth control would not be the answer... neither would tying of her tubes. She is searching for love...searching for proof that she belongs, that she matters, that she is valued and that is when it hit me...


The last time I saw CQP, he hurt my feelings. He didn't try to, and I am sure he doesn't even realize that he did..but he did. We were going through the different issues that result in a person having self-value issues. I just couldn't wrap my head around why I didn't value myself especially with all that I had accomplished. So CQP broke it down for me about how terrible my childhood was...about basically how my parents failed at showing me that I was priceless and at showing me love...and then the peeps that did love and value me, they unfortunately weren't permanent features in my life...so I have been trying to reconcile my value ever since.

While he was talking and bringing up things I had told him that had happened to me, I felt a pain like I hadn't felt in a long time. I saw me at 4 and 5 crying myself to sleep in my bed. I heard my prayers to God asking HIM why did he choose these people to be my family. I saw myself comparing myself to others trying to figure out what was wrong with me...trying to see what I could do differently to get my parents to love me, to see me, to understand me, to cherish me.

I remembered how alone and unloved I felt. I remembered wanting to disappear. I remember wondering what I had done to deserve the treatment I was receiving. I remember hating myself.

So as he is talking I am wondering, 'why didn't I just end it all when I was little because I had a very dysfunctional childhood and standing here looking back, I am not even sure how I made it through.'


On April __, 2000, the doctors told me that I was going to die. This was right after they scooped my stillborn son into a specimen cup. They wanted to take my other son. I basically told them that they could go to hell. They assured me that I only had 2 choices, neither of which I morally agreed with. I told them if I died, I would die with my baby and I meant that and well, I did.

I remember the pain I felt. I remember how powerless I felt. Most of all, I remembered that I didn't cry. I couldn't cry. I couldn't mourn. I had work to do. I had to fight for my firstborn's brother. I had to try and make him stick or at least get to a point where he could live outside of my body.

I remember for 3 weeks I fought everyone. I fought my mother and her ignorant, drama filled lies. I fought my grandmother. I fought the insensitive nurses. I fought the incompetent doctors. I fought against my body's natural urge to abort my child. I fought the paramedic worker.

I fought with all my might and I still lost.


I remember holding my son in my arms...watching him fight to breath, fight to live, fight to be seen. I remember being angry. I remember feeling defeated. I remember feeling lost. I remember that I did not cry.

I couldn't...there was no time for that...I needed to sift through the madness...salvage whatever I could and keep it moving. I would cry another day, just not that day. And here it is 10 years later and I still haven't found the time to cry.. to cry for my sons...to cry for my dysfunctional childhood, to cry for me


But it is coming...I can feel it..and well, it's been a long, long time coming. I have been at work, tearing up...one or two may fall and then it's done. I have been driving and the same thing has happened, a tear here, a tear there. My soul is ready to release this backup of pain, of sorrow, of hurt of everything that I cannot verbalize that I have had to endure. I am worthy of my own tears. I am worthy to be loved.

"It's been a long, long time but a change's gone come. Each day, I move toward that change. I embrace that change. I love that change. I realize that I am only as strong as my weakest link and each day that link moves closer and closer to UNBREAKABLE."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (smooches)

Do Not Pass Go

Go directly to jail!

So we all know that if you will lie, you will cheat, if you cheat you will steal, and if you steal you will kill.

Well, if something happens to me, that child of mine has done it.

Because he Lied about something...can't quite remember right now...he just confessed to Cheating on his test at school...and the day before that he Stole from RiteAid....

So the only thing left on his list is to Kill.

And since his last words to me was that he wanted 'another mama that wouldn't try to take him to jail' I am sure I will be his first target.

That's right, I took his hindparts to jail and had the officer come out and scare the begeebees out of him. This little criminal in training stole some chocolate from the store, which he is allergic to, and hid it until he had a chance to get it out of the house undetected. Problem was, he didn't bank on leaving his lunchbox upstairs and he didn't bank on me opening it up after I had already closed it.

Then this lil midget wants to play word games with me and be all specific and technical. He bets to be glad that I know the demons that lie within me and that I didn't grab hold to him while I was mad.

"Where did you get this from?"

"RiteAid."

"Did you steal this?"

"I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know..did you put this in your pocket and not pay for it?"

"No, I put it in my hand first and then in my pocket."

"Did you pay for it?"

"No, because it was in my pocket."

Lord, Father, Jehovah, you truly are a powerful God because the only reason that child of mine can walk today is because I know that there are many days that you probably want to have an angelic foot, lighting bolt, a huge hail ball hit me right smack dab in my forehead, BUT you don't because you are loving and do not change even when I act a fool up in here.

So, I call my ICE and breakdown. I call CQP and tell him. I text Jill Scott and tell her. I am at a lost. I don't know really what I can do differently. I mean enough is enough. I will not put money on his canteen. I will not write him. I will not visit him. I will not stop living if he gets locked up. I mean he needs to understand all of this now. I will not go to court and tell the Judge it wasn't him. I will not cover for him. I will not make excuses. I have a cousin that got locked up at the age of 10...I bet his mama wishes she would have paid attention to the early signs.

So, I spent the entire day at the hospital stressing. I felt the tears swell up in my chest. I wanted to let them out, but they would not fall. I had to do something. I had to make this boy understand that what he did was serious and that I would not stand by and condone his activity.

So after spending a shift in the hospital waiting to get various test ran on me because we still don't know what's wrong with me, I came up with an answer. I was going to take this little boy to jail. He big and bad enough to do the crime, let's see if he man enough to do the time. Hmph.

I wish I had taped it. It was pure comedy. I picked him up from school and talked to him calmly about his actions. I asked him what happens when you steal. "You go to jail." See, he had the knowledge, now it was just time for him to see application of it. I didn't say anything else to him. We went and picked up that little girl and they were in the back going back and forth and I was in the front getting my Alicia Keys on. I pulled up in front of 4D and this joker went slam off.

"Aww MAN! I gots to go to jail? You taking me to jail? I don't want to go to jail!" He starts wailing and so does the girl. Not sure why she crying. I get out the car and tell him that I will be right back. I go into the station explain my situation and how he really doesn't believe that he will go to jail because he is a kid. (this ain't his first time stealing) So I come back to my car, alone and start it up so I can continue singing "That's how strong my love is...." while I wait for the cop to get his coat and whatnot. So he comes and knocks on the window and opens the door and before he says anything, the child is screaming and crying and wringing his hands. I am in the front cracking up.

The cop pulled out his handcuffs and was like, "You know what these are? Stop crying...do you know what these are? You stealing from Rite Aid? You want me to lock you up? You gonna steal again? You sure cuz if so I am gonna come and I am going to put you in jail and you don't want to see what jail is...." My child's response to every question was, "I don't want to go to jail!" Funny thing is, the cop looked like he was about to cry when he walked away....next time I gots to get a lady cop.

So, all the way to Olive Garden, he cries and screams about how stupid he is that he was about to go to jail for stealing something stupid...then he states how he wants a new mama who won't send him to jail. I could've stated how I wanted a new son who wouldn't fight their teachers, cuss out people, and steal from RiteAid, but instead, I kept singing my song.

"I love my son, God knows I do, but I will not turn a blind eye to anything that he does. My love for him is strong, even if it has been shaken, and it is that love that will see him through this rough spell cause lawd knows he won't be stealing again, or at least for a very long time."

~Gotta Luv Moi, Cuz I Surely Do (smooches)