Wrong turn. Right direction.

Being a young mom has its pros and cons, but being a young mom to a little girl is the best. They start off as your babies and then turn into your best friend without you even realizing it. My relationship with my own daughter isn't any different. She's the frick to my frack. The Rory to my Lorelai. My best friend.   I didn't really realize the depth of the bond we truly have until recently. The past 6 months have been particularly rough for me. Between my mom moving back to Minnesota, my son deciding to move to his dad's in Minnesota, my daughter turning 18 and applying to colleges out of the country, getting pushed out of my job a week before Christmas and then having to spend Christmas without my kids and family (it was dad's year for Christmas with the kiddos), I've definitely been feeling down. Helpless. Destroyed in some ways.   When your whole adult life has been nothing but taking care of others, it's difficult to adapt to put

About 7 years ago I met  a woman that would change my life and how I looked at things.  You see, she was my then-boyfriend's mom,  Miss Lee. My "mother in law" for all intents and purposes at the time.  She was a good ol' southern African-American woman from Alabama. Near Birmingham. A woman who had seen some things and been through some things,  but never let anything bring her down. She had a light about her,  an aura,  that she radiated in every room and situation she was in. A woman of faith.  A woman of hope. And a woman of logic. One of my favorite past-times with Miss Lee was our lunches together after I got out of class. I had just gone back to college and was taking classes at the campus near her home. I decided to spend some time and get to know them better by going over there for lunches on my class days.  Sometimes she would make food and sometimes Mr. Willie had me run and pick up Sonny's. (Either way... delicious!) During these lunches i

One day or day one? You decide.   The last time I really remember having something I really loved or wanted to do with my life was back in high school. That love was dance. I wanted to be a dance choreographer like Fatima Robinson. Create dances and forms of expression for artists and music groups. See my choreography in music videos and up on stages at award shows. My plan was to go to school for Dance. (And Creative Writing. My second passion. I write all kinds of things. Blogs, lyrics, poems, stories... and hopefully- one day, a novel. But I'll get to that later.) But back in 2002, All I really had aspirations for was dance. But apparently,  the universe had different plans for me. Finishing high school at nearly 4 months pregnant definitely changed my tune a little bit.  After getting accepted into my dream school, I had to make the tough decision that the full college experience and a dancers lifestyle was not exactly how I wanted to raise my child. So I put on my

Have you ever had that moment? The one that they talk about in movies and like every freaking song on the planet? That moment of realization. That "Oh shit!" moment. Well, let me let you in on a little secret about that.... it lasts a hell of a lot longer than a moment!! I'm over here having a panic attack that's lasting me like 3 months and counting!! Why you may ask? Maybe you're sitting there going,  "Giiiirl,  what in the world kinda realization are you having to be on THAT level???" Well, let me tell you something.  A few months ago my son text me while I was at work. Now, he knows what he be doing when he does that shit because I work in Healthcare. And he knows I can't always check my phone. Ugh. Boys. So, I had a moment to glance at it and his text read: "Mom- Can I go live with dad? Would you be mad if I did?" My heart. Sunk. Down. Down. Down. That's when it started.  My "moment". I sat there at work the r