Why I Decided To Risk It All and Treat Myself

Okay, that title is being hella dramatic but bear with me here.

I get iffy about Mother’s Day. I still have a mother here and I’m one myself. But I always feel there’s someone missing. For those new to my blog, I lost our first son, Ethan, several years ago due to incompetent cervix and subsequent premature birth. He lived for two hours.

Ever since his untimely passing, I feel a bit awkward on Mother’s Day. I kinda treat it as any other day, honestly. I don’t go too out nor do I expect it from others. I’m sure to wish other mothers (including mine) a Happy Mother’s Day but that’s about the extent of it.

This year was a bit different.

I think I’m starting to turn over a new leaf in my life, a new page in a storied book. It seems things are finally settling down and everything I ever wanted is finally coming to fruition or within my reach. This is becoming one of my best years ever and it can only get better, honestly.

I decided to splurge.

I splurge once a year. If you were to look into my closet, you would see a variety of clothing from discounted Macy’s and it-had-to-be-on-sale Target. I only have 8 pairs of shoes (and trust me, I actually had to count them since two of them are winter shoes; I wear the hell out of my Sketchers.) I keep old, worn clothing because vintage is now in and I figured I can get a second life out of them shits.

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I do spend money on makeup but even I can admit I don’t wear a lot of makeup (honestly, I don’t. I’m actually makeup-free about 99% of the time). I decided this year, I was going to spend a bit of money and invest in something I’ve always wanted. My husband decided to treat me as well. It was a good weekend.

So, blah blah blah…here’s the loot:

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I’ve always wanted a pair of Uggs but let’s face it…I have to really love something in order spend a minimum of $100 on a pair of shoes, right? Not even my sneakers cost that much!

Still, when I was trying on the shoes and OMG, they feel so comfortable, I had to swallow my pride (and paycheck) and get them.

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I ended up getting the low ones because the higher ones I wanted were too hard to navigate my big ol’ clown feet in them (I’m a 10-11 women’s). I had a similar issue with the middle calf ones, but the low ones were perfect. I was bummed that the color I wanted – brown – was too tight on my feet but these black ones were perfect. I don’t get it, neither.

I also love how these really do look like typical boots so unless someone actually knows the brand or they’re staring a bit too hard at my feet (eh, why?), you can’t tell.

To purchase, click here.

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It’s been years since I’ve had a watch. I mean, at least 10. It’s been a very long time. I have nothing against watches but I also don’t waste my time buying an expensive one if I know it’s just going to look pretty collecting dust.

As I walk often (up to 20 miles a week), Maks has implored me to look into getting the Apple Watch to track my fitness. Previously, I was looking at getting a Fitbit. I wasn’t too sold on getting an Apple Watch for a few reasons. One, they’re very expensive and I was afraid it would’ve been an issue of me getting a watch that would collect dust.

Second, I don’t like to wear watches at all (of course, that brings the question why would I get a Fitbit since it kinda looks like a watch?).

I was finally convinced by reading this news story.

Apple Watches rely on photoplethysmography — a long, complicated sounding word with a fairly simple premise. Because blood with oxygen is red, it absorbs green light. The watch uses green LED lights paired with light‑sensitive photodiodes to detect the amount of blood flowing through a person’s wrist, according to Apple’s website. During beats the amount of blood in the wrist is greater, and between beats it’s less. Flashing the LED lights hundreds of times per second calculates the number of times the heart beats. The sensor can support beats ranging from 30 to 210 per minute.

I decided I have a kid who depends on me and life is too short to keep waiting for the right time. It was time to get an Apple Watch.

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She’s purty, isn’t she?

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And it’s pretty accurate!

To purchase, click here. (You can also purchase through your cell phone provider if you have Verizon, Sprint, T-Mobile, and AT&T)

So, this Mother’s Day has been better than the last years, but it’s not to say the last years were bad. They were pretty great as well. This year’s was pretty dope, tho. It just means I’m finally getting the peace I deserve.

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Eyes were intentionally closed. I was relishing in snuggles. 

Next post will be the creative ways I used some of the products in the latest Shea Moisture box! Post on Wednesday!

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You Haven’t Done Nothing

I really don’t like giving unsolicited parenting advice to other parents. It’s pretty simple: 1) It’s not my kid, and 2) it’s not my kid. See? Pretty simple. While I may not agree with some parenting choices and I may have to silently question the type of parents they are, I also have to check myself. These are people who’s doing the best they can or they have a different parenting style from mine, and that’s completely fine.

Let me tell you the Case of the Two Bears.

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I was having an abnormally shitty day. While I get my crummy days like everyone else, I really try not to let it bother me. I decided to treat myself to new makeup at Sephora. I ended up getting good face (see below) and having my second eye palette ever. Yeah, ever. (Eye makeup still intimidates me, though I’m pretty much an expert on my lips and cheeks.)

Bear was a saint. He played with my iPhone the entire time, watching YTKids videos. Sweet!

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We went out on Free Admission Museum day. We stopped by Chik-Fil-A (I hate their anti-gay stance but I love their chicken) and went to the African-American History Museum. Then, we stopped by a local park to play. It was getting cold and dark, and Bear was having so much fun, he didn’t want to leave. Of course, that ended up in a tantrum, only to have to the monster tantrum inside the crowded train.

Of course, I was embarrassed. Seeing my kid who had a relatively good day only to have Satan take over his body didn’t sit well with me. But I also knew he was tired and cranky, since he’d skipped a much-needed nap. (I could never understand why kids act up when they’re tired. Just go to sleep! You’ll feel better!)

I promptly put on my headphones and tried to comfort him but it was really no use, I was just going have to ride this one out like I normally do. A stranger came up to me and asked if I was the babysitter (smile!) and I said no, I’m his mother. Then, he proceeded to give me advice:

“You need to beat his ass.”

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I rolled my eyes and put my headphones back in before telling him the conversation was over. He was still trying to talk to me from a distance but I no longer cared.

A few things came to mind as I thought about his uncouth suggestion –

  1. Why was he certain my son didn’t have any mental handicaps? 
  2. Would he have said the same thing if I was White? 

Now before some of you roll your eyes and go, ‘It’s not about race,’ oh, yes it is. The man approached me was Black and he assumed, I was Bear’s babysitter at first while everyone else figured I was his mother. Oh, believe me, there will be another post on the looks I get being out with a light-skinned biracial son but I digress.

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Let’s talk stereotypes of Black moms, shall we? 

When someone thinks of a Black mother, they’re not thinking Aunt Viv (Fresh Prince of Bel-Air), Clair Huxtable (Cosby Show), or Florida Evans (Good Times). They’re thinking of the most horrible stereotypes:

  1. Single
  2. On welfare
  3. Has multiple kids with multiple partners
  4. Uneducated
  5. Loud
  6. Ignorant

I know all of these because each time I go out with Bear, I usually get a shocked look from people when they see a wedding band on my left finger and see I can form a sentence without the use of Ebonics.

As I thought about the man’s unsavory suggestion, I thought about what if I took his advice on the spot. What if I started spanking my 2 year old toddler right then and there? Do you know what would’ve happened? I tell you. Someone would’ve pulled out a cell phone, uploaded it on the web, and I probably would’ve been arrested the moment I got off the train for child abuse because again, it was a crowded train.

Le sigh.

While some might wonder why I chose to put in headphones, for me, I know what the cause of the tantrum was. Unhappy and tired Bear makes for uncomfortable situations. I’m sure if we stayed at the park well past dark, it would’ve been the same outcome because he was tired. If I can tune him out, I will.

And let’s keep it one hundred, shall we? A screaming toddler is uncomfortable and horrible to hear. On a public metro service, it’s not the worse thing. I can recall people fighting each other on the train, or some having a conversation where every other word was a variation of motherfucker.

Or what about those who haven’t taken their meds and they’re sprouting conspiracy theories? Or the homeless who sit right next to you, knowing they haven’t bathed in weeks?

Yeah, my screaming toddler is not a bad thing after all.

So, for those who feel they have to give advice to a mother when their toddler is acting up, here’s my suggestion – mind your own fucking business. For real. You’re not paying anything towards that child’s care and chances are, you’re not going to give a damn about the child or the parents the moment they’re no longer in your sight. Unless the child is in potential harm, leave it alone. Leave the parents alone. Save your breath and fight for a cause that could actually help others instead of voicing your opinion because ‘back in your day’ things were different.

Because honestly, you don’t really care.

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Beautiful Boy


Dear Bear,

I don’t know where you’ll be in your life when you read this. You might be going to college. You might be graduating from college. You might be on your wedding day. You might have experienced the birth of your first child. You might have scored you first big contract. You might have lost everything and wonder why you even bothered to begin with. That’s the beauty about the future; I don’t know what it holds but I’m excited about all of the possibilities.

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Right now as I write this, it’s Summer 2015. It’s August 11. Right now, I’m watching you pull each CD down, one by one, and you have a little method to your madness. On the TV, is the Sesame Street episode, Proud to Be Me. Daddy’s currently at work and I hope to put you down for a nap soon.You’re running around the house, trying to get into everything. You’re currently messing with something you shouldn’t be and I’m just watching you. I’m not mad nor am I irritated. I’m just wondering what’s in your thought process. I always wonder that.

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This is a letter to tell you how much I love you and how thankful I am you’ve brought so much joy to my life. It hasn’t been easy for your Mommy and while some of it was due to circumstance, some of it was also due to choice. I’ve made some poor choices; I’ve made some really kick-ass ones. But I don’t have any regrets.

There will be times where I’m going to be wrong and you’ll be right. There will be times where I’ll be right and you’ll wish you listened to me in the first place. There will be times where you’ll be embarrassed by me. There will be times you’ll think I’m the greatest thing since sliced bread. There will be times you will just hate me. There will be times you wouldn’t know what you’re going to do without me. But I hope you know, no matter what we go through, no matter what you go through, I’ll always be there for you and you’ll always have a home to come to.

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I wonder what you’ll be when you grow up. I wonder if you’ll be more successful than me and your father. But never doubt, we’ll support you no matter what.

I hope you find a love like I did with your father, who is loving and very supportive of me. I hope whoever you find will love you unconditionally and with so much love, your heart will burst with joy. I hope, if you decide to have children, to raise them right and love them in the same way we’ve loved you.

I wish you peace, love, and blessings. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for you.

Love always,

Mommy.

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