Tag Archives: blogging

Best Wishes To My Beloved

Beloved,

Time is moving so quickly, yet to you, it probably feels as though it is moving at a snail’s pace. Life is about to come at us fast as if it hasn’t already. We will look back on this day (and all the others) and wonder where the time had gone. I have loved many, but none like you. We are forever connected, no matter how our roles may change.

You will leave. You will grow. You will find trouble and love and adventure mixed together along the way. You will get your heart broken and have moments of loneliness. Tears will fall, time will fly and life will be electric–buzzing around you with possibility.

I will leave. I will grow toward gray. I have found my trouble and love and adventure all mixed together along this journey. My heart has been broken and I have cried. Tears fell, the time has flown and the electricity of life is still buzzing, just perhaps not as loudly.  What little advice I can offer is to keep your feet on the ground as much as you can. Be humble in the moments when the world calls you to be anything but. Hold your heart open and extend the softer side of yourself during the time when being hardhearted is easiest. Speak after and think it through first. Words, your words, are bond. Mean what you say but hear the other side. Admit when you are wrong and be open to learning, always. Don’t just look ahead, but find some time to broaden your vision to see it all.

I have not been perfect.  But that is the beauty of life, you see. In the imperfection lies the meat of living. Embrace your imperfections and never stop moving. Always push forward, especially when you don’t feel you can. An inch is just as far as a mile. Watch. Listen. Learn.

Life is coming and it is coming fast. Before long you will have loves of your own, bills of your own and hard decisions of your own. Don’t be afraid to look back, to ask, to grow, to cry, to love, to listen, to be silent, to be you. Put all trust in Him and grab onto Him to steady yourself before you stumble. Greet every day with a smile, even when dark clouds are overhead.

I have had the pleasure and the privilege to love you. I will continue to love you from afar as you inch away from home base. Just know, no matter what I have or where I am, I am your home and home is always open.

Enjoy this moment and all of those moments coming. I know I will.

With Love Always,

Me

Just Dance

Here’s the thing. I can dance. I really can. When dancing is required in a public space my limbs get rigid and I freeze. Dancing in the bathroom? Oh yeah, I’m the business (IMO). Dancing out in the open? Fugettaboutit. While finding forty, I figure there are some things that are going to have to happen. I am just going to have to bite my lip, close my eyes and do. Today, I will dance. It won’t be forced. I will just allow myself to feel the music in my ears and move as it glides down my soul. Dance today—anywhere and enjoy every beat. I know I will.

~SM

Surrendering the Extremes

“What instances do you need to grieve or surrender?” (Grit & Virtue)

Twenty-eighteen was a year of extremes…to say the least.

My family and I celebrated (or should have) a lot of wonderful moments last year, but each moment seemed to be tainted by something. Young Gun and I got married in March, and while, for a brief moment, we were able to be in the moment, newlywed thoughts and actions quickly dissipated. The conversation swung to funerals and cremations. The day we found out Cookie was a girl, we were able to smile and celebrate for a brief moment, and then sadness seeped in as YG settled into the realization his mother was not there (and would not be) for any of it, as of four days prior.

My 39th birthday was covered with a small fog of sadness as my furry friend of 15 years was recently buried in our backyard. Our celebration of YG’s first Father’s Day was short lived as he spent the day hurt by selfishness. The birth of our beautiful new addition was short in celebration. After only six hours, she was whisked away to the NICU. For Thanksgiving, the excitement of Cookie’s grandparents and extended family getting to meet her was extinguished quickly.

Our first Christmas Eve blended family celebration packed with hot chocolate and Christmas movie line-up was dampened by Young Gun being sick. Christmas itself was mediocre at best because we were broke, severely. With games sprawled out on the table and anticipation bubbling for us to celebrate new beginnings, New Year’s Eve was shaping up to be a first that was not dampened/tainted/ruined by anything. Except…it was.

Looking back at the turds floating in our punch bowls last year, I could easily dwell on each of them. I could carry bitterness with me and be cautious about anything shaping up to be joyous this go ‘round, but I refuse. Yes, some of the big moments in our lives were dampened by a circumstance, but we cannot allow that to steal our joy. It was absent enough.

After today, I don’t plan on looking back at these moments from this vantage point. The moments meant to be joyous will stay that way in my mind. Under the rubble there is goodness. I am going to dig it out, dust it off and put it in a new shelter. I will protect the goodness a bit better this time and make sure that before I allow anything to steal joy, I check it at the door.

~SM

The Year Two Thousand & Eighteen Notables

“Think through each month, and make a list of all the notable moments, the treasures of 2018.”  (Grit & Virtue)

 

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January – We got to see the baby! For an entire month, I was a nervous wreck! Every ache or pain I felt, I just knew it spelled trouble. We knew there was a little life growing inside but we had no idea if it was okay or if it would stick. In January, we got to have our first glimpse of the newest addition. What a beautiful, amazing sight!

February – I got to meet all of Young Gun’s family and I got to witness how one long, loving life could affect so many people. The unfortunate part was that I was unable to meet the man behind the long, loving life, but the number of people he touched was absolutely unbelievable.

March – We found out the baby was a girl. My husband wanted a little girl and God saw to it. Although, I still believe when my mother-in-law got to heaven that week, her first order of business was to put in a good word and God obliged. March was also when for a brief, sparkling moment, my beautiful friend and I put away everything heart-heavy and became husband and wife.

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April – The Boy’s baseball career started to buzz! He was in the paper, his pitching was amazing and colleges were peeking in to see what he had to offer. It was a blessing to see something blossom right before our eyes. He has been dreaming of playing baseball since before he could read well, and to see it growing before him was amazing.

May – Mommy and I chucked the deuce to an item on our bucket list…JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!!! We had amazeball seats and the show was a-mazing! We had been waiting years (yes, years) to see him in concert and we finally made it. I still owe her money for my ticket, but the debt is soooo worth it.

June – BABY SHOWER! Oh my goodness what a wonderful, beautiful showing of love. Friends, old and new, the family from out of state, Mommy, the kids, and even The Ex and his person were there. Cookie received so, so much that we barely had room enough to receive it all.

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July – The Mother/Daughter Team was back at it in Atlanta, but this time it was Sam Smith. What a surprisingly wonderful show! We had such a great time. Me and my 8-month pregnant waddling self hung in there. Cookie had a great time too!

August – Both of my girls had birthdays. Earlier in the month, we welcomed Cookie into the world and two weeks later we celebrated a beautiful young lady and her Sweet 16. School started too and we had a Class of 2019 man in the house and a fresh Junior (Class of 2020). What a year of extremes…

September – Young Gun and I went on our first date post-baby and we chose to celebrate with a Childish Gambino concert. I surprised him with floor seats. He was so stoked. We almost got within touching distance of Gambino, but security blocked us (booo). It was an amazing show. To top it all off, big Bro and Sis got some baby watching action in.

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October – Me and my girls went out for brunch one morning. The Girl and I were awake and Cookie woke up too and I just said: “Let’s go to brunch.” We left the boys snoring in the bed and had a wonderful mid-morning. I didn’t have a ton of cash, but the little I had, we used on yummy pancakes, waffles, hot chocolate, and tea. Time (and money) well spent.

November – Cookie went to daycare for the first time. At first, it was bitter, but seeing her progress in such a short time helped to turn the bitter sweet. Seeing just how well cared for she is and the fun she has is wonderful. And (as much as I complained about it), it was actually nice to get back to a semblance of a routine.

December – I found my voice (and breath)…again *swoon*

~SM

Finding Him In Reflection

My sister-in-love forwarded an email that gave me pause. The email was from a journal company (my weakness, besides planners) speaking on reflection of 2018 and moving forward toward 2019. I typically stay away from all of the new year’s resolution hubbub because it does not seem genuine (IMHO). If change is what a person is really after, they will tackle it any time. Why wait for January 1? Due to how 2018 started off and ended, I plan on being a ginormous hypocrite and being a part of the hubbub. And I think I will start with the email.

I am far from a heathen, but I must admit, God and I have been distant lately. My fault entirely. I allowed a lot of the important parts of my wellness to get swallowed up by other things happening around me, and my relationship with Him was one. When all else fails in my life, faith is the one constant saving me every time. Today, it has faltered and I have no doubt it is because I moved farther away from the source. When I read the email, it painfully reminded me of how far I have wandered. But, thank God for His mercy and grace. Even if I have wandered far from Home, He continues to keep the light on…just for me.

In order to find my way back Home, I have got to stop going in the other direction. I can’t front and say I haven’t been hiding. More and more I have been cutting my circle closer and closer, allowing it to dwindle down to nothing. I have been ducking my head and being passive because parts of me preferred not to even deal. But if I am going to take this upcoming journey and if I am going to get better, I have to turn around and open my eyes. Nothing is ever as scary as the thought of something. The real thing might be hard and a little intimidating, but it is the thought of it being something more than it is that creates hysteria. Instead of playing the scary-thought loop in my head, I need to uncover my eyes, about-face and stare it down.

For the next nine days, I will take a look back at these past twelve months and reflect on the wins. The bad stuff is easy to point out, but there was good. There was great. The first order of business in shrinking the scary is measuring it up against the good. God is in it all, but for me, it is easier to see Him and understand Him in the good. So, I will be intentional when I look back and reflect. I will seek understanding. I will seek goodness and light. I will search for Him in it all.

I can’t say I will be a completely different person when I reach the other side, but I can say that I will be on my way. There is no magic pill to finding your way. There are no ruby slippers to click or fantasy tornadoes whirling about to carry me Home. There is only courage and dirty work, and, if I have nothing else, I know I have the courage to put in the dirty work.

~SM

Planners, Paper, Pens…Oh my!

Paper. All types. Pens. All kinds. Planners. Every one. If it is an office supply, I am drawn to it. It has been like that always. I have journals, notebooks, planners, pens, stickers, labels, folders, markers, crayons, post its, pencils, paper, dividers, rulers, calculators, tape, binders and page protectors in various locations (neatly) tucked away. If I get stressed, I go to the store in search of the perfect notebook. Sometimes, I just stand and hug a pack of filler paper. *sigh* Don’t judge.

When B2S time comes, I start making lists in July. This past August I had a carriage full of school supplies and The Girl just shook her head. “Mommy,” she said with amusement and slight pity in her eyes, “we’re in high school. We really don’t need all that stuff. Just get paper and binders. That’s it.” My eyes fell on the carriage full of boxes of crayons and markers, several notebooks and binders, construction paper, two types of glue, pencil pouches and the like. I smiled sheepishly as I started releasing the booty. For most of my issues, I know the source, but this? With this, I was clueless…until recently.

Overly excited about the discovery that Michael’s had a one day sale on planners, Young Gun sat staring at me.

“What?” I asked baffled by his look of…hmm…no.

“No,” he said.

“No, what? I didn’t buy one,” I protested.

“Good! You have a drawer full already that you don’t use.” Lies. Those, people, are lies. Each planner has a purpose and I use them all the time. He just doesn’t pay attention. “Why do you like paper so much,” he asked. I shrugged. That was a good question. I had no idea.

“I don’t know why I like paper stuff so much.” Silence filled the air as I put my brain to work really trying to understand. After about a minute had passed and my puzzler was sore, I said, “Well, take the planner, for instance. There is something so exciting about it. The way it smells, the cleanliness of it all. There’s so much possibility.”

Ah-ha! And there it was.

For thirty plus years I have been in love with paper and pens (and anything closely office related), and for the better part of twenty, I have felt like a weirdo for the love affair. But here, hanging in the air, was the answer to why this moth is drawn to that particular flame. There is so much possibility. The same can be said for pens and pencils, crayons and markers. The potential is enormous!

 What can be created within the pages of a journal? What life-altering words can be written on paper? What power can be wielded with the pen? Billion dollar businesses have been formed from thought spilled from a pen. Lives have been forever changed by what was poured out onto a blank page!  *swoon*

Anyway, I ended up not buying a new planner. Even though I had a better understanding of why it all meant what it meant, I also had an obligation to myself to be a responsible human being and not hoard…and, uh, also, I couldn’t make it to the store in time.  But, hey, at least I put a face with the name on this age-old love affair. Perhaps now I can put it to good use and actually create something on those marvelously beautiful blank spaces.

 

Cinderelly, Cinderelly, All I Hear Is Cinderelly

I have a problem. Well, okay, more than one (obviously), but one of the biggest problems I have is giving away too much. I thought I learned my lesson, but apparently I am a serial giver. And I am also a doer because it takes more energy for me to bitch than do. There are dishes in the sink, so I do them. There is a trash avalanche about to happen, so I rectify it. There is a light bulb blown, so I change it. There is a dead dog, so I bury it (well,  attempted…long story). Whatever needs doing, I do it because it is there to get done and these people I live with have terrible initiative. Sure! Let’s be hoarders! Said no one…ever.

I do not know how not to do. My mother is a flitter, too. She flits from one end of the house to the other—sorta like a humming bird. I don’t even know if she owns pajamas or if she just sleeps in her clothes. My dad, he’s a doer too, but there are levels to his doing. He is cutting grass, doing man stuff to cars, wood, machines, whatever. When his man stuff is over with, he parks it unless he’s hungry or thirsty. Meanwhile, at opposite ends of the house, the flitter is buzzing about. Honestly, I think my dad sometimes just finds stuff to do because all of her buzzing, but then he gives up because he knows she can do this all night.

I have become a flitter, only less gracefully. My mom manages to do it while popping chocolate kisses in her mouth like it is the easiest thing in the world. Me? I run around like a mad woman: boobs popping out, one shoe on, hair everywhere, ashy everything. I am dusty, sooty Cinderella.

On average, I get about a good three to five hours of sleep a day. If I manage to get five hours it is because I fall asleep in the bathroom (yes, on the toilet–don’t judge). I am up at 3 or 4 a.m. and I don’t touch the bed (or pajamas) until well after midnight. I am working, driving, doing dishes, cooking dinner, washing clothes, washing tiny humans, feeding tiny humans and walking flea ridden dogs—amongst other things. I do take blame for some of the load. I put it on my shoulders, sure. Running around like a banshee pointing fingers and giving directions is just not my thing. Instead, I explode.

I cannot remember what triggered me exactly. I think it was the folded up clothes I neatly placed on The Boy’s bed. Something about him sleeping, my eye bags begging for rest and the house being library silent sent me over the edge. I told Young Gun all about my Cinderelly thoughts and soot filled despair. I. Was. Tired. As far as I was concerned, all I needed was a tank of gas and a pair of undies and I was out the door. I quit dis bish. For months and months and months I have been hauling a pretty hefty load with little help (and I was pregnant for most of them I might add). I was holding onto everyone’s feelings, best interests and chores, while good ol’ Cinderelly was being ignored. Young Gun reminded me of the problem: I stopped putting myself first.

“If you don’t take care of you, everything stops,” he said. He also apologized for letting me take point on the whole thing.

It will take some time to get back into the swing of doing for me first, but I can do it. I need it. I am going to take the time to inventory everything around me and figure out what fits best in my life. Whatever does not fit or whatever causes me more aggrevation than not, I’m cutting it.

This is exciting! It is exactly what I need–a plan (teehee).

~SM

 

Rule #1: Silence is #$%*ing Golden

I am a reactor. I react. Pure emotion. You cut me off in traffic, I wish I had a tank to crush you. You jump in front of me in line, I want to trip you on the way out. Temper temper. A lot of times I put my foot, the whole thing, in my mouth and wish I hadn’t. Did I say that? Did I mean that? Layer the foot with the daily guilt I feel about every little thing and sprinkle that with some anger glitter and you have got me. Mmmmm, delicious.

After some internal checks lately, I have come to realize silence is golden—especially coming from me. If I just shut up sometimes or if I just nod my head and smile maybe, just maybe, messes wouldn’t be made and I can walk on my feet instead of choking on them.

I am like the Hulk. I turn green and roar and smash. I do not give people any room to be human. Instead I shut it down lock it down and toss away the key….and then roar and smash stuff. I don’t think about the words being used until after the fact, and then I live days or weeks or months trying to clean up the mess. So, I’m vowing to shut up.

It has been a declaration of mine before, to shut up, but it lasted like three days and then I went back to running my mouth. I went back to over explaining, using too many words, and spewing things perhaps I should have just kept to myself. I let the Hulktress and all of her shitty emotions react for me instead of being a grown up and assessing the situation for what it is. I am pretty sure it will be difficult to keep it all in at first, but maybe I can channel all of that into something good like the great American novel I keep referencing but never seem to finish.

Emily Dickinson said it best, “Saying nothing sometimes says the most.” My voice does not need to literally be heard to be heard. I do not have to bounce anything off anyone. I do not need to fill up the air with words aplenty. I need to just hush, say nothing and let that be the voice that matters. Perhaps if I do, I can learn to take in the situation and think a little more critically, and eventually, I can stop chewing on my feet.

~SM

 

Happy Anniversary Sadie May!

Whelp…we made it. We made it through The Split, The Boy’s and The Girl’s antics. We made it through the confusion of Life and the possibility of New Love. We moved out of our old home and tipped our hats to good times. We had discussions about sweaty armpits and naked vaginas. We grew a little stronger as time passed. We learned that thinking too much is definitely not a good thing. It has been a fun, full ride. We made it.

A lot can happen in a year. It is safe to say not only did I manage to pack away a marriage, but I also opened myself up to love again. I managed to grow up a little and be okay with who I grew into. A lot can happen in 365 days.

Kay, a good running buddy of mine, suggested (well…pushed is more like it) I write in this arena. I am so glad she did. She said it would do me some good to get it all out. I can’t say she was wrong. I am pretty sure you don’t always want to hear about what goes on in my life. There are real life tragedies happening out there everyday. Reading about random things like what to wear on a first date or wearing The Boy’s deodorant is not exactly life changing. But just knowing that you stuck around to take a peek anyway means the world.

So, cheers to us because we made it! Here’s to another 365. Who knows what will happen next 😉

Yours Truly,

Sadie May

Writing. That’s It.

I went on a job interview yesterday. A simple job, yet a little different from where I am now. The tasks are basically the same. The money just a few dollars more and the hours are greater than the 20 I work presently. The interview went well. I spoke properly. I looked him in the eye. I shook his hand. I looked professional (afro included). As I said my good-byes and thank yous and headed out of the door, I knew it wouldn’t make me happy.

I went on a job interview yesterday. I need to make more money. I would like to move. I would like to save. I would like to send the kids to college and a part time paycheck just does not cut it–so….I went on an interview yesterday. But it isn’t what I want.

Not the job, per say. The job was neat. I would learn a few new skills, meet some new people, and perhaps add another 5+ year employer to my resume….but it isn’t what I want.

What I want is this. Right here. Right now. A desk. A phone. Converses on my feet. A cute shapeless dress on my body. A computer. A keyboard. And words. I want the creative license to just….be. I want words and enlightened thoughts spilling out onto blank pages. I want this.

When I told YG my thoughts on the interview yesterday, he fell silent for a moment and finally said, “Want to know what I see you doing? I see you writing. That’s it. Writing.” Me too. I see it too.

I went on an interview yesterday and by the amount of “Thank You for Your Resume Submission” emails I receive daily (due to my job applying marathons), I will likely go on more. I have to be realistic, right? We need to eat and bathe and live with lights. So, I will go on more interviews and apply for more jobs just as a cheating spouse would continue to go home and pretend to like their partner—all the while dreaming/loving/fantasizing about something (someone) else.

~SM