So I never felt this way about lovin...

No reason for the Brian McKnight reference, Jerry mentioned the song this morning and now I can’t shake it.

So I got my first issue of This Old house via the mail today. I watch that show a lot, TOH as it is commonly referred to by people who watch it a lot, is right up our alley, because our house is certainly old.  I also upgraded our cable a few weeks ago for the sole purpose of getting the DIY channel and the Fine Living channel, since I plan on doing both I figured it was an investment and I have learned a lot about what I can expect in the renovations of our home.
One of the shows I watch a lot is the DIY rescue show and the guy who hosts that has a blog and he answers questions. And it is so cool, cause he, or somebody, really answers them. And it really helps. They give thoughtful complete answers. And that rocks.
My vacation starts tomorrow at five p.m. sharp. Thus I plan on going totally Bob Vila all up in that piece.

I told my friend I really didn’t think it was gonna work out, him staying with us, and I will give him my final no today. I tried to change our mind, but its not the right thing for us at this time. Honestly it really has very little to do with him. But people never believe you when you say that. It almost feels like a break up, he came by last night to pick up something he left at the house and he was very ‘you kicked my dog’ sad, mumbled and left with out a good bye.
Sometimes it makes me wonder what kind of friend would let you risk your marriage to get them out of a tight spot.  I know they don’t do that intentionally, but they don’t not do it when it starts to happen either.
It also made me realize Jerry and I have a very strong solid relationship, but every boat rocks, and we must put on a pretty good front cause I got the distinct feeling he didn’t believe me when I said we need to work on us. Why does it matter what he thinks or thought? It doesn’t, but it is really fascinating how easily people get to a “the grass is greener” mentality. For me my grass is emerald green and it can’t get any greener some where else. We make enough fertilizer during the rainy season that the fading spots don’t stay that way for long, and we get more than enough sunshine to keep it growing well and looking good. If I had to relate relationships to gardening, we’d be that lady who spent as much of her time out in her garden as she could. So much so that people wonder if she neglecting the cat.

Anywho going to pickup that paint sprayer today, and I was thinking I wonder if my hubby would let me do some graffiti on that brick wall… what do you say sexy?

Love Thursday

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Originally uploaded by raquita.

You know all this talk about best friends leaves me thinking about who your friends really are. And hands down without a category my sister is my best friend, (husband withstanding) she and I are more alike than either of us would care to admit, we are just severe opposites in how we display those simularities.

for instance -
we are both dog people however her dog weighs eight pounds, my dog weighs eighty.

we are both very particular about security in relationships (we both carry mild scars from our parents divorce) she however is comforted by different secuirties than I am, she is a homebody most days and her home is a santuary not a lot of guests, my home is my santuary however I have a revolving door of guest, (somedays shes way smarter than me too)

I hope that I am as good an Aunt to her children as she is to mine. Cammy and her are way alike in so many ways.

you know how they say God offers payback in the form of your sister as your daughter. Honestly I can't think of a better blessing.

I think I'm gonna call my sister and make some plans to visit her.

breaking patterns

I am a bleeding heart.

I know this. I am aware. I have a save the world mentality. I hate to see people I know in any kind of difficulty. I want to help every thing and everybody. When I was a kid, I was known on occasion to give my tithing money to the guy on the corner, what I didn’t spend on candy mind you. I brought home every stray imaginable. I begged my mom in high school to let my best friend stay with us when her family was having problems, and she did, for six months. My home for as long as I can remember has been a place of refuge for friends and on occasion strangers. My first apartment, at one time housed Tim and then Valerie, friends from community college. Then there were the co workers from waitressing, who need a place to crash. Then I got into poetry and then the poets came, and any one who had a chap book or a CD and a good delivery could call through a network of poets started by Lamar Hill (so another story), could sleep on my couch for the duration of a cycle – the first poetry event of the week to the last one, as many as seven poets at a time have been in my home, probably in the area of thirty or so individual poets have graced my doorway. Most multiple times. I have taken old ladies home waiting for cabs at the grocery store. I have picked up moms with a kid in the rain and gone out of my way to take them where the bus would have. I have given my last dime to buy a guy a meal. I have worked for free at a for profit bookstore, because I didn’t want the poetry night to end.

I tell you all of this not because I want to impress or I need validation but because I need you to understand how hard what I have to do is.

My best friend is in trouble. It is of his own making. A series of blatantly stupid and just plain bad decisions have left him with out a place to stay.
Those of you who read or have read my entries previously know this is not new for us. We are just getting our home back from the last time it turned into a youth hostel. Spoken is comfortably in her apartment, Rock and Dwayne are currently in apartment, and John has moved back in with his mother. It has only been about three weeks since all has gone back to normal. People leave our home at some point during the evening, even if its after we go to bed.
Our house is quiet save for our own noises. And it has been wonderful. My husband and I are repairing the stress marks that time caused, one day at a time. God blessed us, there were no breaks in our armor, no cracks in our foundation, but heavy stress marks remain, like plastic bent just to the point of breaking. Our lives have gotten no less stressful, his mother issues (see his blog) our financial stresses, the house – which isn’t stressful yet, but its renovation – the stress will come. Cammy’s schooling, getting her into school, and then paying for that school.
Then my friend makes the request. Asks if he can stay for a while.

And I have to say no.

Against every pull in my heart to make it work, I can’t sacrifice my marriage to help any one else. And it would be. Neither of us want to admit it, but it would. I can not sacrifice my sanity to help anyone else. Not until we are better and more comfortable, and healed from the last time. And to be totally honest I don’t want to be anything less than my husbands safe harbor, he needs to know that our family is my number one priority, and that I have focused my energy on that long list of stresses previously mentioned. I can't help him resolve his bad decisions by making one myself.

That being said my dad found a paint sprayer so I can get some more work done upstairs, which totally rocks, my dad he totally rocks too, alot like my husband, my dad is.

But the rest of this sucks.
It sucks hot sweaty monkey balls.
Seriously.

Cause Saturday was so good we did it again...

The sexiness I call my husband has thus posted about the adventures of the wall and the wonton, which we happened to repeat last night.

Why mess with a good thing?

We just gotta get to doing this stuff earlier, cause we didn’t make the wontons until like ten thirty… which means my lovey dovey kid was KNOCKED OUT. And would be very upset to know she missed the newest addition to the wonton night menu, Crab Rangoon. They are her favorite thing to eat as of late. She takes a bite out of the center and just sucks the creamy cheesy crab filling out never failing to make her self a gooey mess.  Never fear, I kept six them to fry this evening for her goo sucking pleasure. Cause that’s the kind of mom I am.
She ate a faithful back up of Pizza rolls, grapes and cheese for dinner. And she really at it. Which is a welcome change. Cammy is a picky hearty eater. If you can find what she actually wants to eat she eats with gusto, if not – not so much.  I happily worked on Cammy’s new bed room some more. Got the purple on the walls.
Honestly we were backed up because we went and got that stove yesterday. (yippie!) it was such a dramatic experience (too many chiefs not enough Indians) that it took some of the happy happy joy joy right out of it. No matter. We got home, I cleaned the living room (this is a major thing) and then went straight up stairs to get a few coats of paint on the walls. Its slowly becoming exactly what I want it to.
I have made arrangements so on Friday we’ll get that infrared paint thingy to help me remove the paint from all the base boards. (I kinda wish I had painted all the walls before I started this but, no matter!) and a friend is interested in splitting the cost on a paint sprayer, while my husband is all about the faithful and loyal paint roller. Easy for him to say, since he’s not been ANYWHERE near a paint brush thus far. However, I will admit, I don’t mind doing the painting, home repair and maintenance is right up my alley, it makes me feel really good about owning my home. Makes me feel very useful, and productive. So this weekend I expect to get BIZZAY! and really get a large dent done in my work around the house.

Since that wall thing is working out to our advantage maybe we’ll get upstairs sooner than we thought.

I need to do some before and after pictures soon. Before its all after.

A weekend close to full…

Friday, we were running late, that being the case, I got a day off rather than take a attendance hit at the job. Hated to do it, but it happens. So I spent the morning at Barnes and Nobel drooling over cookbooks and making notes for my bakery menu.  There was a story time that made my heart ache that I didn’t have Cammy with me. I got up three different times to go and get her, but

1. I never would have made it back before the story time was over,


2. I never take time just for me, so I did.

You would not believe the guilt you can feel just by not having you kid available for a story time you didn’t know about.
Any who I got Jerry from work early and we went to Home Depot with Spoken, who also got her couch today at her new apartment, and picked the paint for Cammy’s new room upstairs, looked at cabinets and hardwood floors. You know the best part of this whole home project, I think, it’s working with Jerry. The best part of my day was spending that few hours with him, being a silly married couple.
Then we went to the check out a bakery supply store I have heard good things about, they gave me a recipe for edible fondant, and I bought some pastry tips and icing colorings. We went to a few home stores, and had a pretty nice day before we went to pick up Cammy. Then we went to the science center. And Oh. My. God. It was so good to watch Jerry turn into a kid with Cammy, they just ran and ran and ran all over the place. She has a complete ball and so did he.

Pictures forth coming.

My Saturday was involved. J’s cousin who hangs out a lot, was with out A/C so she hung with us. Although she probably would have been there if her air was working. I like having a girl friend, and Jerry like having some family of his own so it works out.
Anywho we went to visit my dad, and yank his miter saw, a crow bar, some saw horses, a sander, and a stud finder. That’s right baby I’m about to go Bob Vila on your arses!!
He also gave me his target card to go get Cammy some new stuff, which I did happily. We got the letters we had been trying to get our hands on, as well as the music instruments and two Ryan’s room toys (thanks Chelle for the heads up) the little people preschool play set, it was like Christmas in August. My dad is the total coolest. WE stopped by barnes and Nobel and this time Cammy was there we played with Thomas the tank engine, for a while, she is really into those, I am currently hunting up some used ones. Gonna start making my rounds at garage sales and see what I can make happen. Then we went home and got to work – on dinner.
Jerry and I decided that this was experiment Saturday and we made Won tons, and won ton soup. Man it was SO GOOD. This was mostly my husband as I played the role of sus chef and helped him chop, slice and dice.
Played Uno, with my zany friends again until the wee hours of the morning. Sunday morning we made a fruitless attempt to pick up the stove then had a little lunch and I baked some cupcakes. Not bad – not great but not bad. I gotta practice. I also got going on the painting in Cammy’s new room upstairs. I got the pink on the wall with no problems, washed the base boards, putty’d the holes from nails , patched the giant holes from the door knobs and took a look at all the things I’m sure we are gonna have to work on. While I was painting, Jerry decided he was gonna swing that sledge hammer I picked up a few weeks back, and decided to see what was behind that wall. And what mind you was back there?

Brick.

Just plain old, naked brick. Not a frame, not a insulated anything, just a lot of bricks. Somebody slapped some mortar on it and then some plaster over that. So now I’m thinking, we should leave the brick exposed, cause I like exposed brick, always wanted to have some in my bed room, and now I have the opportunity, ironically at a cost of WAY LESS THAN EVERY BODY WAS TRYING TO CHARGE US. Shoot, lets break down the cost.
Sledgehammer – 30.00 - I got the one with the fiber glass handle.  
Indoor Satin polyurethane –  at most 39.00 per gallon may need three to five gallons
Paint gun rental 75.00
Paint for walls – 100.00
Total = 322.00 best case 400.00 worst case.

Vs. minimum quote per contractor – 600.00 plus supplies
And maximum quote – 5000.00 total job cost including labor. I almost laughed when they gave me that one.  

Yeah, I’m lovin exposed brick.
Yeah it’s a little crumbly, and it needs some work, but I think it has character.

Anywho, I may most again later… maybe not.

because two posts in one day isn't ever enough

I’ve found a new blog source for me as a mommy, simply called mommyblogger.com and it seems to be filled with like minded mommies, i.e. mommies who are trying to be supportive and available to other moms out there. Mommies like me who just want to know somebody else is there and that somebody gets it. That the people who watch and enjoy Paris Hilton are not the majority, thus proving it was not a major mistake bring children into this world.
That nifty little site has taken me to visit with CityMama who had this totally nifty post reprinted there. She totally rocks.

Seriously

So, take a minute to visit with her and check her out. I thought I’d share.

Also to anyone who’d like to know, should you desire NOT to reproduce – and you’ve come to this decision the morning after you can now buy the morning after pill over the counter. Nifty. Lo and behold something that would be your god given right if men gave birth is now available to women.
Anywho, I was supposed to be on vacation next week but I have moved it to the week of Labor Day, and per my previous post, I have the opportunity to purchase a commercial stove which my mother wants me to use to start some sort of baking business, I’m kind of interested in starting a specialty bakery. I’m thinking I need some practice but hopefully I can get into that one day. So I’m thinking the basement might be a decent space to practice in. put up some dry wall, level the floor, run some lights and presto – maybe in home business or at the very least a practice kitchen.

Vacation, ah yes, the supposed down time that turns out to be anything but. But oh to choose the things that wear you out! That is the fun of it! I am very much looking forward to the time off from work. I’m planning on taking Cammy to the Local museum of Transport, the butterfly house, the magic house, Purina farms and the city museum, as well as our weekly trip to the science center. One special trip a day should be great, and still give me the time to paint the rooms and hopefully remove the paint from the wood surfaces I want to re-stain. I’ve just set up rental of a Speedheater Infrared (IR) Paint Remover so I can get my upstairs ready for move in. I am so excited about getting to work up there. I expect that my evenings will be full of home depot and paint fumes. OH the JOY!! I am going to have to cancel my weekend trip to Branson next week, although the rest of my family was very foo foo about going, I was kinda excited. I like Branson with all of its country redneck charm.

But alas I am off to pick paint colors and try to rustle up the know how to knock out a wall. Wish me luck.

Love thursday

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Originally uploaded by raquita.

Its love thursday per Chookooloonks check her out at every thursday she posts a picture that embodies the love shes feeling. While you guys don't want to see the love I'm feelin for the hubby today - hehehe - Me and Cammy's love is easily presentable. check out her flickr gorup too if you are feelin it.

Overheard in St. Louis

Wife: Mom says she may be able to get the lady to take less for the oven, maybe even a hundred bucks
Husband: Really?
Wife: yeah, so if it’s a hundred bucks can I have it?
Husband: wait Sixteen hundred?!?!
Wife: no a hundred (which admittedly sounded pretty ghetto like a hunned)
Husband: six hundred – wait a sec…
Wife: (real slow) if. it. is. a. hundred. dollars.  
Husband: gotta talk to me real slow huh?
Wife: Apparently
Husband: I love you Jennay
Wife: I love you to Forrest.  

Overheard by me this morning on the phone with J, Okay technically you can over hear if you are involved with the call but gheesh.  

because I was born in 77 and I needed a reminder of the decade

Good Decorating - Attic Hideaway
Originally uploaded by MikeLove.

okay so if you click this photo and go to flickr you will see some of hte wonder that was seventies home decorating. this make me look at the pottery barn kids catelog I'm addicted to with a whole new light, I wonder what Cammy will think of the ideas I had for her room when she's thirty.

scary.

after yo ulook you have to come back and tell me what you thought... cause I gotta know.

Cammy Scrapbook journaling #1

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Originally uploaded by raquita.

i have decided since I don't update her scrapbooks as much as I should I should be writing what I would be journaling, so I can have it later, instead of trying to remember. Today she is be 2 years 2 months a four days old...

Cammy,
I wish was more diligent about keeping up with your scrapbooks, and all the other things I had planned to do – so you would always know how much I love you, and how much I enjoy our everyday.
You have become such a little lady. Despite everything I am and do, you are exactly who you are. You do and say some many new things every day, from the comical, “Awwww MAN!!!” when things don’t go your way. To the newly found, “Mommy it hurts…” which while useful does attempt to stop my heart on occasion.
You still love to cuddle with me, we sit lately to talk in bed on Saturday mornings, and now a days you’ll let me read a whole book to you. Especially if its one with the push buttons that make noise. We love to read Corduroy, and other classics. You are so smart you pick out all the items on the pages. We are watching less T.V and playing more tea party. And hopefully if the summer heat has truly passed us by we’ll start those bike rides again.
You still won’t say “May I please have…” you sentences are coming along but requests are pretty much – OBJECT – point for reinforcement and maybe if I’m lucky a please. You and the dog are getting better about each others space, he’s dodging you and you are glad of it.
You are very polite to strangers and people who don’t live in our house. Most people think we have raised you to be such a stand up little girl. I don’t take much credit for it, you are genuinely a nice little girl. You are still very possessive of mommy, and sometimes daddy too. I still can’t leave with out a hissy fit being thrown. Although you did let me out of the car when I went to the grocery store last night, I’ll take what ever progress I can get. Last week you got to hang out with Amber’s nephew Josiah. He was the perfect gentleman and you directed him around as if you were your mothers daughter, imagine my pride! Boys are still totally smitten with you, and your father is actively researching shotguns, gun laws and loopholes. I’ll try to help you but mostly I think you maybe on your own.
You are a very clean kid, you like to sweep, and wipe tables off. Sometime I think you spill just so we can clean it up. You are saying your prayers with us, every night and kneeling with folded hands. You and almost say grace by your self, which is cuter than a mug, and you like to sing along with Lilo and Stitch, and quote the movie verbatim, a lot. All in all we are so happy you are our kid, you make us want another – but only if they will be as great as you!

Rap Cat

Cause my husband can't be the only one with stupid stuff on his blog.

all hump days should be so good

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Originally uploaded by raquita.

yesterday, amisdt my stress I took the day off, and took my kid to the Science Center.
While in one breath it was the best time i had spent all week, it made me realise how much stuff Cammy needs that we haven't gotten to. She needs more learning stuff, and things to make her day more enjoyable. more things that make her think and I am gonna do my very best to get it together.
We also pledge to go to the science center once a week (they are open late of fridays) so she has the chance to have some away from home time. i know how much I need alawy from home time, and I work away from home eight hours a day, Cammy doesn't get that luxury of leaving nad coming back so until school starts for her, we are gonna work harder at gettign her and us out of the house more often.

need to pick up those gel seats for the bikes so my butt doesn't hurt for a week after the ride.

When the Flava of Love is bitter

A few points I’d like to make

I am not afraid of sex. The human body is beautiful and I enjoy its celebration.

I found my life mate on the internet.

I applied for several (3) seasons of the Real World cause I thought Heather B (season 1) was so on point. I stopped after Puck – it was too far gone, and had turned into a frat party.

Its not like I don’t have my guilty TV moments. I watch foodtv and HGTV daily, okay I TIVO them daily.  My kid watches cartoons in the morning. I watch enough reality medicine TV that my husband thought I was crazy when I was pregnant, but not enough to think I knew what is going on (outside of a very basic understanding, and the comforting feeling that I wasn’t being talked over, but rather to) while I was in labor.

I don’t harp much on race, or politics here. Being a black woman is very essential to who I am as a person, but it is not the end all be all of my existence or individuality. Most of my posting here is about being a mom and that is something that transcends race and is truly about love.

I am learning how to be the best mom I can. Cammy does watch too much TV, we need to spend more time on learning, and ABC’s and shapes and numbers. (Daddy I plan I picking up some things to help with that this weekend.)

Why have I felt it necessary to make these points. A blog I read made mention of the new season of Flava of Love. And as a woman, let alone a black woman, a person who believes in marriage, and least of all a Christian I just really feel like this has just been pushed too far.

If you have not seen the show, count that as a blessing. Flava Flav, former hype man for Public Enemy, yes that’s right Public Enemy, has decided to take his comeback via Reality TV. I personally have issue with most reality shows that belittle marriage and commitment. The Bachelor and Bachelorette, and Bridezilla to name the top three. In the same breath that Americans talk about the sanctity of marriage as their basis for denying gay marriage or civil unions, 12 to 20 million people watch Trish and Ryan spend more money than either have made ever in their life on a circus wedding. Or watch this years Bachelor, whether he be a second string NFL quarterback or a B list actor riding his brothers coat tails gloat as perfectly normal women morph into strange creatures normally only present on this kind of show. Then break up citing “insert fluff reason here” with in six months of the finale. These girls do things and allow themselves to stoop to levels on national TV I am sure their parents never even considered. So what do I do? I don’t watch it. I probably should have put all of that in my previously mention points. I digress.
Then comes Flava Flav. With his Ghetto-fied version of The Bachelor, Selecting females, because most of these girls are not yet women, I can’t make myself call them women, who glorify and embody every negative stereotype in their respective races. Then they are made to chase after every woman’s fantasy – that’s right Flava Flav.

Because there are no quarterbacks or actors who are looking for a quality black or ethnic woman, at least none that VH1 could find, right?

And I’m supposed to teach my daughter the exact opposite of every lesson she sees, every movie that depicts black women negatively, every brats doll, every Barbie, every music video, every rap lyric. Every teen mother, every drug victim. I am supposed to be more powerful than Hollywood, the billion dollar porn industry, the billion dollar music industry, than peer pressure, than cool stuff. It is my job to prove to her that she is better than Hoops, or New York, or what ever stupid arsed name they tagged you with cause the one your momma chose for you makes you too human. Makes you more than thighs in four inch heels. More than ass, more than the chick who defecated on national TV.
I’m supposed to tell her people see you for who you are when the majority of persons in CEO and president and vice president positions are white males, who while they probably don’t watch Flava of Love, read the same news snippets and think that is a fair assessment of ethnic women. Or the mom who sees a segment while trying to figure out how to get her teen to pull his pants up, or why he lets them hang down. It will color people perceptions long after the novelty fades away.
Why we glorify stupidity and call it individuality. There is nothing individual about low self-esteem. Nothing individual about bytches and hoes being common rap vernacular. You are talking about me, whether I am a bytch or not. Its me on TV whether its my face or not. Its my daughter, and that makes me want to cry.  

I’m ranting. I’m going to stop.

I wish I could remember how my parents did it. I wish I knew what they differently in me than in my sister than in my brother. I wish I knew what buttons to press to make her a leader and not a follower.

When I was pregnant, I really wanted a son, for all of the above fights I don’t know how to fight. I wanted to believe that raising a strong black man, with pride, socially responsible, who respects women and people in general and has values, manners and morals. Its not. Its no easier giving a boy the tools to build a man, than it is to give the tools to a girl that make a woman.  

I’m finished.

I’m tired

All I really want is a few sushi rolls and a pepsi. Oh yeah and for my daughter to be everything she can be.

Welcome to Monday 2.0

The weekend was full, yet, kinda slow.

Did the granddaughter thing and helped my grandmother move, actually, my husband was SUPER IN-LAW, and my grandmother, aunt and mom have all called to mention how great he is, and how thankful they are that he is there for them.

Hehehe, yeah baby, my man is the BOMB! Act like you didn’t know!

Speaking of my man being the bomb, Friday I found what I hope to be a financial planner to help Jerry and I find our way out of our current financial funk and figure out the best path to get where we are trying to go. I was identifying with a fellow blogger so much that I got motivated and made the calls to phone interview a few financial planners, and the one I really like seemed to really get where I was coming from. So we’ve received her packet and been working on it pretty steady and hopefully will have it completed by the weekend. So we can get this ball rolling, get to where we wanna be, but in the mean time, SUPER HUBBY has effectively put a plug in my hemorrhaging of cash. Cause really, I can twenty dollar myself to death. I pouted about it and he held fast, which is very impressive. Cause I can do a mean pout. But he’s right it really is the little things that do us in.

You know some days I watch my husband and I wonder where he came from. He amazes me. How I got so lucky, blessed, why God would smile on me like that, proves to me with out a doubt that God exists. Not that I don’t believe that I “deserve” him, but how often in life do you actually get what you deserve? I’m waxing a bit nostalgic because we, being Jerry and I, watch so many people we care about struggle through dating and trying to find someone. And I remember being there. The bad dates, the rational used to justify bad relationships, the paper thin reasons not to leave months if not years before you should have.  But as they say about hindsight….

Anyway. I’m trying to get up the effort to actually start painting the upstairs and working on stripping the wood work so it can be re-stained. All that white paint is starting to wear on my nerves.

shaking head, eyes closed

Hey remember what I said about nothing happening and all that good jazz? Remember? Couldn’t have been more than 48 hours ago, seriously.

Remind me to shut the F#$* up next time and just enjoy, cause that whole nothing is happening thing didn’t even last through the weekend.

I’m gonna go drink some iced tea now and wish it was long island. Its not, but I wish it were.  

p.s it is Downtown Restaurant Week if you got the time and the funds check it out…

Poetry junkie

the poets who come here know, I am a poetry Junkie, and this time of year is like going through Drug withdrawls with out rehab for me.
i have been a performace poet since 1999, I write poems mostly for the writing, but I perform them for my whole being. I haven't performed in a long time, and my being is screaming. I hear it but there is nothing I can do to get that scream out just yet.
moming has taken up so much of me, and I have been glad to give it, but during NPS every year, I remember who I was before I gave birth, and I miss her.
it is National Poery Slam (NPS) this week, a time where poets get together adn express to each other, cause lets face it a ton of people don't go to peotry slams, mostly poets and people who want to be poets, and people who are poets and don't know it yet and with all of my heart I wish I could be there. But life says i can't. Next year though, next year. So I spend a lot of my time scouring the internet for photos and podcasts, and video clips and anything I can get my hands on, anything at all. And the poem I most identify wiht that I have found so far, I am posting.


Get this video and more at MySpace.com

Beleive me, my whole soul is aching to watch these in person. But video will do okay, it will get me by for another year.

Thursday the new Monday

You ever have nothing happen, and you were quite okay with that?

That’s the kind of day today has been. Rather blah, but it has given me the opportunity to think about some things I need to focus on, like school for Cammy.

I have noticed a lot in this wonderful, wonderful world of blogging that I have found. People STILL have a zillion opinions, and it amazes me how easily people draw lines in the sand and are ready to fight to the death over, what amounts to… an opinion. Why is it so difficult for adults for that matter, to simply agree to disagree, respect the choices of our fellow human and have a nice day?

Stay at home/work from home moms and dads vs. work away from home moms and dads

Home schooling families vs. Private school families vs. public school families

It just seems so silly. Me personally, I wish I could do it all. I wish I could get the best of a homeschool world and private schooling all rolled into one. I wish I could work part time away from home and stay home two or three days a week. I wish the right choices were easy to find and implement.

So in an attempt to have my cake and eat it too, I’m hoping I can get my hands on some home schooling books and some curriculum that I can use with Cammy to supplement what we learn from the private school we have chosen. I am hoping to find the reading material that will help me learn to be a better parent, and become more involved with teaching Cammy on a every day level. The funny thing is as many black parents talk about wanting to do better by their children, however, in my experience, which is honestly more limited than I really want it to be, so few really choose the time commitment that is necessary to truly make a difference in the product you receive i.e. the adult your child grows up to be.

And that has been honestly the most eye opening thing for me as a African American to understand and digest as a parent. Granted children don’t come with a manual, but man if they don’t have a zillion at Borders and Barnes and Nobel. And if I don’t have any idea what I’m doing, I have to seek out and research better parenting techniques and apply them. Better learning opportunities, better exposure to the world.

My mom taught me that when I was a kid, and I think it was possibly the most valuable thing she could have ever taught me. My mom always wanted us to believe we could get the results we wanted we just had to figure out how. And then execute. Honestly if people put all the energy they pour into their hustle into their goal, what ever it is, cause that’s what it is, hustle, you can figure out anything you want. I will never believe the whole I simply don’t have time theory, great children and adults don’t just happen. You have to pour energy and time and focus into parenting, or you are just hoping it all works out for the best. Hoping the things that influence your child when you can’t won’t be that bad.

I have been blessed. As a Christian, I married a good man, I believe I have a good foundation in which to offer my child a faith based existence designed to help her end up in heaven. On that path, I think she will learn how to fulfill the things she needs, understand her wants and desires, and learn how to balance them. She will teach me as many things as I teach her.

p.s big ups to those competeing and tearing it up at nationals, (especailly Neo Soul!!!)I'm with you in spirit. NPS (National poetry slam) is truly something to be hold treasure it guys really.

15 things I strongly dislike.

I am doing this because I was tagged even if I didn’t remember until like wayyyyy later (Sorry Jae)

Here we go
1. air conditioning. I hate the way it makes me feel like I’m being cooled from the inside however..
2. I hate being hot, like Hebrew slave hot. I love summer and I don’t mind sweating but I’d like to earn my sweat – standing out side is not earning my sweat.
3. feeling useless, I am a fix it, I was born to be a mommy, I hate not nurturing, even if I don’t like you I nurture. Sue me
4. lose hairs, they make me feel like bugs are crawling on me, and I’m not afraid of bugs I just hate bug bites, and that crawly feeling when they crawl on you sucks too.
5. Telling Cammy no
6. being side seat parented like I’m six and not a grown arsed woman.
7. TV haters. Granted most TV is stupid, I happen to like my fair share of TV, including food network, the DIY channel, Entourage, Grey’s Anatomy, and extreme makeover; home edition.
8. political junkies, who want to look down on me cause I’m not hyper political. Listen I got kid stuff and home stuff and dog stuff – I don’t have time to memorize your favorite candidates pro and con list so we can debate on my porch.
9. wanting stuff. I am a stuff person. I like stuff, and there is always something else I want or think I need, and I’m trying to get better but that is my biggest annoyance with my self. (Jerry I’m not saying this so you can take it upon yourself to help me- I’m not asking for your help with this… at all… seriously.)
10. my work ethic, unless its something I really believe in – I’m not really up for working. I don’t really like it. I’ve learned and am learning to take pride in my everyday job, but its taking some work.
11. Libraries – as much as I love them I don’t cause I always get late fees but other than late fees they rock.
12. CD’s – cause they scratch
13. Dreams I can’t reach
14. business hours, especially bankers hours, every business open to the public should be open to at least eight o’clock. Cause most people work 9 to 5, so you shouldn’t close at five cause I can NEVER GET THERE.
15. Thinking up people to tag cause I always think I’m gonna hurt somebody’s feeling cause I didn’t put them on the list to be tagged.

Tagging the hubby- cause that’s safe.

Dog nuts and other psychiatric moments

So I forgot to mention – our dog was in doggy jail over the weekend. I’m telling you it was a long weekend. He got loose and picked up by the humane society. After the whole Cammy doctor, hospital trip thingy, it was just one more notch on my mommy belt. So I had to hunt him down, I was so scared someone just snatched him but thankfully that wasn’t the case. But they didn’t want to give him back until he was neutered.

Um, how about no.

Anubis was purchased as a entry into dog shows for me and possible studding, if we get it together and go back to class and such, then maybe people will pay us for his sexiness. However I’m not into puppy milling, and random mutt breeding so if we don’t show him and he doesn’t do well then we probably won’t breed him. We’ve already turned down offers to breed him with other mastiffs, that isn’t in the best interest of my breed so, I have declined.  I have to keep reminding my self cause the grand I was offered would be so convenient. But that’s not the right reason to breed. Any who we had to prove our intent to show Nuby, and initially they would only accept a breeders license, but we have no immediate plans to breed the big boy yet, he’s still a baby.  However after two days of massive calling and hustle, I mean I called my local government bodies, the alderman, city help lines, animal control, everybody I could think of, they let him go, with a bit of ease mind you – AFTER my husband called and made the trip up to the humane society.

Listen for the crickets

Jerry says I can be a bit tenacious, and that helped, I guess, I don’t know if I believe him after the weekend we had. However all was not in vain, we got our boy back intact last night. He was SO excited to see us, and we him. He’s a great, great dog. And I have resolved to spend more time with him. He needs us and we need him. Cammy was so happy her puppy was back, but she was also afraid he was gonna bump her. We gotta figure out a way to train him to be aware of his heavy arsed body. Once he launched her a clean two feet across a room into a wicker basket. We try to minimize the run ins.  He lugs around and bumps into everything, which is another reason I worry about having him in the house, but we’ll figure it out. He needs a shed-x first though, cause for a short haired dog he leaves a lot of hair around.

We took Jerry’s mom to the doctor to be admitted into the hospital last night, again I told you we just keep going and going and going, she wasn’t eating still and wouldn’t keep the food we tried to give her down, so we made the executive decision and spent a large part of our night in the ER. Getting home around three am to our happily free dog, and Spoken who came by from her apartment around the corner to let the dog in. That’s right Spoken got her apartment and we helped her move over the weekend. Yes it was that kind of weekend.
You have no idea how cool it is to miss your friends. She actually hasn’t been gone long enough to miss her however I’m really looking forward to the possibility, and things seem easier all around the house.

Any who – I’m about to hop on over to the this old house site, and see if I can figure out how hard its gonna be to replace all the molding in the house.  I’m thinking I hate painted wood. So I’m gonna try and resolve that.

Its monday again, now what?

There are few things that make you question your parenting skills than when you child is hurt, or ill. Nothing tests your resolve to stand behind your decisions, or makes you question every thing you have done up until that point.
Cam had a serious break out of hives on Wed night. From head to toe with a 103.3 fever, red welts proceeded to make our night and the next few following the most difficult possible. Not to mention she figured out how to say “it hurts mommy.” Which is heart wrenching in its self.
When  your baby is waiting for you to make it better, the doctor offices dufus’ “I don’t know what to tell you,” kind of makes you want to jump through the phone and choke the nurses assistant who’s nonchalant – “you must be one of those over protective moms whose kid lives in a bubble” tone was irking your very last nerve. “Can she breathe?” is not the kind of symptom I would be calling about, I would have her in a hospital if she couldn’t breathe genius. And it amazes me that her eyes are swollen shut, and her mouth is swollen, she hasn’t had anything at all new to eat or drink in weeks isn’t enough to warrant a emergency office visit, that is until the fever hasn’t broken in three days. Then they say hey – bring her on in! After her FATHER calls to use the bass in his voice to voice our discomfort with this scenario.  Our doctor is great but some days her staff makes me what to shake them, I wonder if they actually have kids. Or remember what it was like when they had their first one. Predictably the fever dropped to 99.3 on the day we actually got the doctor to see us.  So they are looking at me like – your so cute to overreact that way. Dude, so not cute. SO.NOT.CUTE.
And why is it when the dad calls with concerns people always take it way more serious than when mom calls?
In addition to our sick kid horror story, we went to a wedding for a friend we never see very often, Jerry said we should make an attempt to catch up to some of the people I was very good friends with before I found my way into his world. Sometimes I think we should and sometimes I don’t.
I take full responsibility for the lack of communication I’ve had with some of these people. Phones ring both ways, but a lot of times after spending an evening with someone you understand why you aren’t close anymore. People I detested, I know now, I disliked as a defense aid. The things we beefed on(disagreed on*) seem totally irrelevant, and I remember why I was friends with them in the beginning. But the bride was beautiful, and they both seemed so happy to be marrying the other, and that is a great thing to watch.
In addition to all of that, Jerry’s mom, is getting worse in her sickness. And we are going to have to take a much more active role in her daily life. How? we have no idea. But we’ll figure it out. In the mean time, I’m planning on working on our house hard core in the next sixty days. But I think I need a carpenter tutor. Someone who I can pay to do some work, and pay to show me how to do some things. I really want to be very involved with renovating our house. Anybody know anybody who is a contractor or a carpenter? Referrals are welcome and appreciated.

Anywho – been off and need to fill out the FMLA paperwork, and catch up on work.

* a few people have noted that they don’t get some of my alternate phrases, so anything I think may throw you for a hook, I’ll add a little definition for ya!

Overheard in St. Louis

Subtitle: I can’t believe I’m related to you somedays.

Brother : “Man, Diapers is TWELVE BUCKS a pack?”
Sister: “Yeah it ain’t cheap to have kids man…”
Brother: “You know what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna invent diapers you wash and reuse”
Sister: “they already exist, they are called cloth diapers, we have some.”
Brother looks at sister stunned in silence for a second
Sister: “seriously. Some of them even look like disposables with Velcro and everything.”
Brother, unbelievingly: ”Get out.”

Heard by me while talking to my brother.

Berry good things and not so berry good

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Originally uploaded by raquita.

It has been a full weekend, again. Kept it kind of close to home, miss a few things we wanted to do, but mostly just relaxed and had fun. Friday night, after we put Cammy to bed we had a small game night, and played Uno and Phase 10 and drank shots of tequila. It was certainly a good time had by all. Bed time. 4:30 am, thankfully our kid is a late sleeper on the weekends, we got up and went black berry picking at eleven however. We found berries bigger than I had ever seen.

It has been asked why I take Cammy picking so often, and not only is it a fun activity for a small child, it instills the idea that fruit and food in general comes from someplace other than the grocery store, and that there are real people who live and work to make all the things we enjoy, including fruit, available. Nothing in life just is, there is a process behind everything. Besides, did I mention that it is fun?
We had a chance to kind of chill out Saturday afternoon. Then we went to the mall and I picked up some supplies to work on my wedding scrapbook. Funny thing is I still need to go back and work on a few more things, you know ran out of this cool printed vellum, and should have bought more of a nifty pattern I was using. I guess I forgot that I am scrapping thirty pages and not, my normal two to four for an event. I did get a chance to paper scrap (SWEET) and my kid is so into my bent safety scissors, mainly because they were the only “lets cut something” thing she could play with.
It amazes me how into the things we are into she gets. Her dad role plays on Sundays, and she loves to get up there a toss the dice with him. I love to cook, and she loves to mix her little side dish while I’m cooking next to her. She prefers reading with her Daddy, which I really like. I like seeing them have something that is totally outside of me. She likes to do my hair to keep me from doing hers. She wants mommy to get her a bath, daddy to walk with, she likes the shoulder rides better from daddy.

We stayed up entirely too late again on Saturday, and over slept for church by about an hour. I made a blackberry cobbler from the berries we picked on Saturday and we rented movies and vegged out for most of the remainder of the evening. Cammy and I got to play little people a lot over the weekend. And its cool to watch her play make believe and pretend, and it has become apparent we need o get some kids over here to play with her, or have a play date or something. I think I’m gonna work on that today, for Sunday afternoon, or maybe Saturday.

Sunday night as I may have previously mentioned, Jerry role plays. It is his total weird geek moment, and if he had told me all about the role playing on our first date I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be at this stage right now. So he’s smarter than the average bear. But he still role plays. For those who don’t know role playing (RPG’ing) is is a type of game in which the participants assume the roles of characters and collaboratively create stories. Participants determine the actions of their characters based on their characterization, and the actions succeed or fail according to a formal system of rules and guidelines. Within the rules, they may improvise freely; their choices shape the direction and outcome of the games.A role-playing game rarely has winners or losers – well that is relative (I am quick with the jokes today people!!!)

And thank you Wikipedia for the definition cause in scarcastic wife speak its “when grown ass men get together and play make believe”.

But honestly if hanging out with his friends around a dining room table playing withhis friends is my biggest headache then I am totally happy to voulenteer our dining room table any time he wants to host. Any who the group of people who come for this Sunday night ritual range in ages eighteen to roughly thirty or so. One of the younger guys brings his girlfriend every once in a while. And this week she was complaining about her mother arguing with her. And I listened from the background, and was waiting for her to get to her mothers grand transgression and funny how it never. actually. came. And then I knew, I am offically a mom. I have been transformed from general daughter, female, to a mother. Cause I was totally like, dude your mom is right.

WTF!!!!!

You guys don’t understand what this means! I am probably middle aged too. I probably am not nearly as cool as I think I am, and Cammy will (GASP!) probably be embarrassed by me once she hits her teen years. I so wanted to be the cool mom who had her healthy well adjusted childrens respect and admiration. I wanted to be the house the kids friends liked hanging out at and respected and the mom they wished for. So much for the wishes and dreams of young mothers.

Reality totaly bites.

I totally expected there to be granny panties replacing my thongs, and day dresses with clip art and die cut felt as decoration in my closet when I went to bed. I mean how dare I side with a mom who wants her child to respect their home, and for petes sake, pick up your clothes before you head out for the day.

It was hilarious how this teenager went on about how she had so many things on her plate, like worrying about the school she’d just been kicked out of, not actually doing something about it but worrying about it she said, and things, that really, I’m not saying this cause I just finished with the youth hostel myself but can be contimplated while FOLDING YOUR LAUNDRY. I did not mention this irony. I simply sugguested that perhaps to make her life easier she should attempt to cut the bytching off at the pass and do what her mom was asking, cause then she didn’t have to deal with the stress and wouldn’t that make everybody happier? She admitted that plan had some potential. And I was left to wander in this new valley of grown-up-ness all alone.

It is very important to me that my mom not read this entry. I’m sure I’ll get the smug mom thingy she does when I say ANYTHING that could be construde as me turning into her. My mom is middle aged, not me, for peets sake not me!!! you can find me whimpering in a corner later I'm sure.

Man I need a drink or something. Maybe I so should start watching BET again or something, wait, I’m trying to be hip, not kill brain cells… I guess I’ll come up with something.