How to Love A Black Woman

Don’t know if “normal” people really understand what the mojo is.

Your mojo is that inner voice that no matter what has the juice to start your engine. Your fuel in life that just knocks you to your feet and makes you smile.

I’ve always known I had so much mojo I inspire others, but after the fire.

I found myself just losing my mojo.

The kids were a temporary fix. Concentrating on them helped me not over worry about things. I have to keep up my Super Mommy persona around them. Keep things together.

Things especially like bills…

RECOVERY AFTER THE FIRE PART 2

Even with my book sales, in government terms, I would say I earn right $20 dollars over poverty level. If you take out health care (about four hundred a month for a family), housing, transportation, insurance, retirement, utilities, phone, internet and business expenses, you’d constantly ask me how the heck do I keep sane with only that much in my pocket every month.

I currently get unemployment as well, but that goes to basic bills like phone, internet and braces.

An ex used to ask me why do I constantly donate my time and money to people when I need that money and I need to get another job to support my family.

I always had this concept in my mind that I will be okay.

“The man who does more than he is paid for will soon be paid for more than he does. Napoleon Hill @quotesNsmiles.

Now I know that sounds like some Peter Pan Never Never land stuff, but I did.

And I still do.

Yet, like I said, I’m not always strong.

After the fire, my faith was tested. To this day it still is.

If it wasn’t or all the gifts I received after the fire… I really don’t know how I could’ve kept what little mojo inside to help the kids. I think I would have crawled to a corner and rocked until death came to pick me up.

I keep saying it a lot after the fire, but I can really say that even though I had nothing, I was truly wealthy from all the friends and family help.

and I can’t say thank you enough for your help….

It’s kept my borderline insanity at bay and has helped me get the kids back to school and in their “normal” schedule. They’re dealing with things the best way they can while I’m just falling apart on the inside, but smiling on the outside.

I keep telling myself Misery likes company and I really don’t want to go to that party.

sigh…

That’s because I feel raw inside.

Like I said, you see a strong woman on the outside, but on the deep inside… I feel raw.

Like someone has scraped away every thing - my strength, my happiness, my ability to think positively, just everything…

then they (this someone) knocked me down, flat on my face and stepped on me.

and then place heavier burdens on top of me (my kids).

Then ordered me to get back up… NOW!

that’s how I feel.

When I’m alone, I do cry. cuz I don’t want to get back up.

It’s hard to fight the growing depression and frustion.

and even though people say it’s going to be alright, and I repeat what they say back to try to get myself up…

I’m still lying down

“Obstacles cannot stopy me. Every obstacle yields to stern resolve.” Leonardo da Vinci @legendquotes

And when I’m at my lowest, somehow my kids come in and say, “Momma can you…”

And i get up from where I am and worry about how to deal with their problems.

Mommies really are superheroes. Really!

_________

Other things to keep together…

of course, there’s this outer exterior that others see and then it’s the emotional wall.

the one where behind it Itelling myself I have no idea what I am suppose to do next and thtaking in all the information everyone is g me and saying oh yeah like I really want to do that… (when i really don’t.)

I just want to lay in a bed, cry and cry and never get out. Honestly…

I think God really did make women one of the best creatures because men have no idea what burdens we bravely shoulder while we take on the rest of your world.

I do that. .. daily, with no one to really share the fear, the confusion and the emotional pain of loss..

No one except my blog… and you (cuz you’re reading this.)

… uh ohh. A child just appeared in the room. I must put on my cape.

Super Mommy to the rescue…

to be continued…

courtesy of houstonpress.com

I’m not one to judge. 

Okay, that’s a lie. I’m forty and by now, I think that YOU should be trained enough on certain things.

Kinda like house trained. 

Putting the seat down out of respect for other genders in the house.

Cleaning up in the bathroom after you’ve manicured every piece of hair on your body.

Putting things away in the kitchen when you took them out. 

Closing the bread after you took a slice out. 

Opening the door when you see me coming through it.

Being on attention knowing I’m coming home with groceries and helping me get them out the car.

Pulling the trash can out on trash day.

Putting the light bulb in when you know I’m too short to do it. (I don’t care if you bought a special stool for me.)

I could go on and on, but there are just little things that you should know how to do by forty years old and that includes kissing.

Before I turned thirty five, I didn’t mind bad kissers. I’d laugh and gently coax them to kiss me the right way. 

Now at forty, you should know how to do that crap properly and if not, it’s not my job to teach you.

I know that sounds terrible. 

It is.

But it’s so true.

I’d drop you like a bad habit if you come on wrong and turn me off with your “skills.”

It’s really one bad kisser in particular I can’t stand.

I don’t mind:

Too much tongue

The drooler

Too much mouth

The oral explorer

Teether

I can deal with those but I’ve refused to deal with :

the lizards

halitosis

the tongue sitters

Now my real pet peevers that I will just not stand are the 

no tonguers

Rocky lips

And of course it’s the men who don’t kiss during sex at all. 

That pisses me off.

Turns me off.

Let’s me know that I need to move on to the next one.

You’re probably saying she could be turning down her Prince Charming over a bad kiss.

You darn right I would. But I usually let them know their skills are lacking. Usually. 

Some I just say, it ain’t worth the trouble to stick around and see if he’s going to improve. 

Kissing isn’t about technique, it’s about passion. It’s about connecting the soul to another and it’s very important to a relationship when the receiver feels like your lips are the only ones in the world for just a brief moment. 

Kissing should make men feel vulnerable and you should kiss as if you’ve abandoned all sense, reason and logic. 

Kiss as if you’re hungry and she’s the meal and you don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of her.

But give her passion.

That’s why the last three are the worse. 

They offer no passion, no movement, nothing.

A recent experience reminded me of kissing and that’s how I came up with the title. 

“Your past is not near as important as the way you see your future.” @TonyGaskins

It happened so fast

Fifteen minutes and everything was taken from us

That’s the simple title of that chapter in my life, where a fire destroyed took all that I had been working to build for my family for the past seventeen years.

When people see me, they see a very confident, strong black woman.

But if you saw me the next day, you wouldn’t have seen that.

I’ve always said, when God made woman, he saved the best for last.

And then man made the mistake of making us single parents.

We’re (women) these creature with the super human ability to deal with the greatest thing man has always had difficulty handling.

Emotions

On the outside you do see this positive woman, I’m always trying to think ahead, know what the plan is, predict the ending and staying strong for my family.

But on the deep down inside, I’m like my high school poet friend said she would have been, sitting in a corner crying and screaming, “Why?”

And I do feel like that. I just want to scream to God like Sally Field did in the movie Steel Magnolia. “Why? Why did this happen to us?

“Why did this happen to me?”

I mean really? I’m a good person? I try to do good for others? Why are you picking on me?

When you see me, I might have a smile on my face, but really I’m curled up in a corner crying because I’m so tired of being strong, tired of losing, tired of everything.

It seems I’ve have seventeen years of loss, burdens and struggles and now as I look at the road ahead, I understand why people just run away, kill themselves or drive themselves into a deep mad depression to stay.

Even my children asked me “Why does God take and take and take every time we get ahead?”

We’ve had loss before. Our house has been broken into over four times and all our valuable have been stolen. We’ve seen our car broken into and we’ve lost things, been robbed on the street and stuff have broken because we were too poor to buy expensive good quality stuff.

That’s the hardship of living in Detroit and having only one income to raise three children.

…

So what happened

small kitchen fire turned into a wall of fire and in less than fifteen minutes everything was gone.

We moved in immediately with my dad and our life has gone from a house to basically one bedroom of us and stuff. Me, two teenagers (one boy & girl) and a tween.

On top of this the kids were going through finals and all projects were coming up due. (All the projects were lost in the fire. My daughter salvaged some of her homework and final notes. And my son found at least one of his uniforms from school.)

I kept them out of school that Friday. (The fire happened on a Thursday.)

I made the kids take a shower and then I got them settled to go to sleep.

I stripped off the burned clothing I had on, looked down at my burned fingers all dark and dirty, hated that I smelled like I was on fire. I laid on the floor so I wouldn’t smell up the bed.

I’ve found that sleep helps with any kind of stress in my life.

I slept hard.

First time in my life, I slept for over eight hours. I didn’t want to think or feel or do anything. I crawled inside of myself, shut down my brain and moved into the comforting darkness where I wanted to stay forever.

When I awoke, I took out a sheet of paper and started writing THINGS TO DO.

I hadn’t made a list of things to do in a long while. I’ve always told myself that I needed to start doing this, so it was no time like the present to do what I’ve been trying to tell myself what I needed to do.

• Call Red cross
• Contact Social Worker
• Get to post office
• Get underwear, clothes and shoes
• find food
• Medicine
• phone (my tmobile got burned in the fire)

I then did an assessment of how much money I had in my head

$10 in food
$.66 cents on paypal
$10 in bank

Oh wow! That sucked.

Looking at the top list and then looking at the bottom hit me like a slap in the face. The feeling of not being able to take care of my kids was a very scary.

I ran to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and cried. Not just a weepy cry. This was like big horrible sobs that made me rock and  shake. I wanted to die because I literally didn’t know what to do.

Then a knock comes to the door.

It’s my son.

“Ma, I need some shoes. I don’t have any shoes.”

My mommy powers come into play.

I gather myself and try to sound okay.

“Umm, can you go online and look at my paypal.”

I don’t know why I told him to do this when I had looked two nights ago and knew I only had .66cents. It was just something to get him away from the door.

He didn’t move away from the door. He had his phone and was checking the Internet.

“It’s nine cents,” he says.

I start to panic. I wipe my face and go out the bathroom to him. “What?” I’m screaming.

“Nine cents,” he repeats.

I grab his phone and look at what he’s looking at. He didn’t scroll over to the screen all the way.

It didn’t say I lost nine cents, it said that I had over four hundred dollars and nine cents.

I couldn’t understand because i didn’t do anything to warrant getting money.

I looked down to see what had happened and instantly tears came.

But they weren’t hurtful tears. The ones that had just been raking my body a few minutes ago.

No, these were the ones that were like fluttering in my chest and forcing happiness over the dark cloud my soul was feeling.

This was brought on by the fact that I had these friends. Friends that didn’t want me to feel all alone, crying on a bathroom floor and wallowing in the horrible fact that I was an awful mother.

these were friends who wanted to hug me and they couldn’t right then, but they also wanted to help.

They did.

They made me feel like a mother again. A woman who could provide for her children and could take care of them.

They were like back up moms. They straightened my back, wiped the tears off my face and held me up.

My son knocked on the door of the bathroom.

“Ma. I still need some shoes. I don’t have anything to walk around with.”

I looked down on the screen and smiled confidently.

“Okay. Let’s go find you some shoes,” I said in my best Mommy voice.

It was a sunshine in the middle of a storm.

“Fear is inevitable, I have to accept that, but I cannot allow it to paralyze me. Isabel Allende @legendquotes.

…to be continued…

With Valentine’s Day on top of us, we thought this article on the science of love was timely and interesting. It’s from Happen magazine and it offers 10 “crazy” facts.

For example, being in love drops the serotonin levels in the brain, which can lead people to obsess about their lover.

Another items suggests that their may be a “right” way to kiss.

People are more likely to tilt their heads to the right when kissing instead of left, says a report published recently in the journal Nature.

A scientist from Ruhr University in Germany analyzed 124 pairs of smoochers and found that 65 percent go toward the right.

Perhaps most interesting is a study from the Twin Research Unit at St. Thomas’ Hospital, London. The study says that if one twin exhibits infidelity, the other twin strays 55% of the time. In the general population, the number is 23%.

Click here to read the full article.

http://personals.aol.com/articles/2009/01/27/love-10-crazy-scientific-facts/

I’m going to give men the secret to most women. Or maybe just me, LOL.