Sex and The Southern Belle

NOTE: I wrote this post shortly after having my daughter. It has sat in my "drafts" for quite some time. I thought I would share it today, on Mother's Day. Why? Because I know there is a mom out there who needs to know she isn't alone she needs to know her feelings are normal, valid and that it is OK to get help. AND you will come out of this, whole and healthy if at all possible. If not, take the steps to get there.  If you are like me, and have lost your mother and yet are raising a baby, you could probably relate... ************** June 19, 2016 I am pretty sure that after the birth of my daughter, I was suffering from postpartum depression and PTSD. No... I KNOW I was  am suffering. I had my daughter 10 weeks early via c-section on Jay 26. It was traumatic and while I felt relieved, I mostly felt like a failure. I couldn't hold on to her inside for just a little while longer. She needed to get bigger. She needed to get stronger. She needed to know...

Turning 39 aka Thirty Fine has been an experience. My body has more aches and pains...I think I also found a gray hair... I've had to make more doctor's appointments than I'd like... I am out of breath when I chase my kid.. which reminds me to work out more and eat better. I have to keep laxative on deck because I'm getting old... But... I also decided that my 39th birthday would be the day that I  I would not give a f*** during my last year of my 30s. I do not care what you think about my body. Imma wear a sheer shirt and show all my midriff. I don't care what you think about how I parent. I am going to parent how I want and Baby Girl will be better for it. I do not care that I am broke or have money for all the things I want I do not care that I don't have a fly whip. I do not care that my skin and hair isn't perfect all the time I don't care if I wear makeup today.. and none tomorrow. I am going to eat what I fucking want...

I will be 39 in a month. I am having a midlife crisis. A literal, mid-life crisis. The job of mothering and wife-ing (lol) is a difficult one.  And add on top of that knocking on the 40s door.... and not feeling like you've achieved jack shit. I haven't traveled the world enough. Bought enough shoes. Eat fancy foods. Had sex with Matt Kemp ... Had enough orgasms. Lost enough weight. Driven the car of my dreams. Paid off enough debt... making sex figures...wrote my epic historical fiction novel... worn enough hairstyles... Blah! I've not done jack squat. *sigh* WHat Id o know is, the unpaid, emotional labor of mothering and being a wife has driven me off track and off my goals. A lot of them. I am having to retool and refocus. In lamenting to my husband, he goes "I mean you can still travel the world! With Us ". Before I could control my facial expressions, I scowled. "A baby? Strapped to my back and a husband to weigh me down as I go see the Pyr...

I was in one of the many online/Facebook groups that I am in (I have a real addiction I believe....) and the discussion of marriage and its up and downs began. Naturally, women started this discussion and men sorta interjected here and there. (SN: I often wish men spoke positively and naturally about marriage the way women do....alas.... all we get are Fred Flinstone types...) I relayed my experiences as a woman under 40 and working on my second marriage. My exact words were...   What I’ve learned in two marriages, one disastrous and one fairly new but relatively healthy, is that you learn to become like taffy:  You start out one big, sweet sticky mess. Then...you stretch, you grow, you pull, you push but if you’re lucky, you don’t break. And that’s the sweet spot.   And when one of my good friends who was engaged said she fears marriage because she was a "hot mess"... I laughed and said, "Marriage is the joining of two hot messes....". And I continued ...

(Ciara and husband Russell Wilson) Let's talk about Ciara and how she, God bless her soul, forget where she came from..... Earlier this week, she decided to repost a sermon by Fat-Fuck-Ex-30-Year-Old-Virgin John Gray, ex-comedian turned minister (and OWN reality show personality), who was talking about women not wanting to be wives....because they walk around in the spirit of girlfriend.. or some misogynistic bullcorn. I can't remember all of it. So I will just link it here , reluctantly. Oh, Ciara, Miss Riverdale Princess of Crunk decides to repost this with the hashtag #LEvelUp, leaving all of us scratching our heads. Lest we forget she was about to marry an UBER FUckboy named Future, had a baby by this dude, gets dumped... and moves on to Russell (who we all were cheering for because he was a decent man). She has what I like to call "marital amnesia "- we forgot our wayward ways when we get married.. (well, some of us do, I don't).... The fault is n...

*I was on vacay so..... there was a pause to the blog last week* My husband and I took a mini-vacay to Savannah and the Georgia Sea Islands (Tybee). It was great. It was also much needed. It was the shot in the arm we needed. No, we aren't troubled. Just tired.  We did a tour like actual tourist. We dipped our toes in the sand. We laughed. We made love. We ate a shit-ton of seafood. We danced. He even kissed me and dipped me under the moonlight in Forsyth Park. He called me his "girlfriend" and we flirted like we were a newly, minted couple. He held my hand and traced the lines down my fingers. He put them between his lips slowly and kissed them. He grabbed my butt in public and didn't care. I rubbed his bald head and didn't mind the beads of sweat. We ordered in greasy take-out and ate it in the bed. We stayed up late. We listened to the music we wanted as loud as we wanted. We didn't care about appearances. I barely wore any makeup. He didn't ...

I am at the intersection of "Fuck it All" and "Think This Thing Through"... Oh btw.. this blog is about career and professional goals... (if you don't want to read any further). I do not dislike my job. But it has run its course and served its purpose. I've been serving in an administrative capacity in High Ed for close to 15 years now. It was my first job out of graduate school. And while it wasn't my dream job of junior editor at Random House, it was a job that allowed a steady paycheck, benefits, and had the familiarity of school. If there is one thing i know, it is that I know University and how it works. And I am good at it. I've had promotion after promotion, title changes and bigger offices. But I've grown tired.  The truth is.. I am not living my purpose. And I know my purpose is to write. I am almost 40.. so I keep wondering if it is too late.. but then I remember JK Rowling was 40.. Vera Wang was 40....

*blows all the dust off of this thing* Happy Valentine's Day 2017! You know, I truly suck as a blogger. I told myself in 2017 I would at least write one post a MONTH... and well.. here we are in February and I am just now opening this thing. But.. I guess it's never too late to start.  Sometimes I wonder why I even pay for hosting *smh*... I look at my friends like Hilary who consistently blog.. and I am like.. boy.. I am the suckiest blogger ever. So what have I been up to? Let's see... mothering is #1. My daughter celebrated her first birthday a couple of weeks ago. She went from a 1 lb preemie.... to an 18 lb laughing, giggle-bot who likes milk more than I could ever imagine. I am truly blessed. (From the NICU to Now... Please  visit:  www.marchforbabies.org/ TeamTeags  ) Secondly, I've been trying to get my health on track. After having the baby, blood pressure has been high and I want to ultimately get off of these pills. I bought a gym membershi...

We've been married 2 years today..... (Photo by Made you Look Photo , Atlanta) The traditional second wedding anniversary gift is cotton. For someone black, that may be a bit of a difficult gift to give Cotton. Something that black bodies toiled, sweated over, were beaten and bloodied over ... sold and auctioned and ripped from families over... financed universities..... all in the name of King Cotton. Black hands that picked in sweltering heat. Not measured for their humanity but by the pound. All while we wore burlap sacks and rags. This same cotton, sent up North to be made into pretty things for Missy and Massa.... to celebrate their weddings. And we couldn't celebrate ours. Cotton. Today cotton is grown here and elsewhere... sent to China, Bangladesh and etc to be made into all kinds of things. Even traditional wedding gifts. 2000 thread count sheets of Egyptian cotton. Cotton handkerchiefs that wipe tears. King Cotton . Often times tied in a noose ...

 *vacuums this blog* Hello you all! Howdy! How are ya? I think when we last left off on this journey,way back in October 2015 , I was talking about how happy I was but yet I wasn't willing to share EVERYTHING that could be attributed to this happiness. I know.. from a blogger's aspect this is probably death to a blog. But hell, as long as I own this domain name... it's going to be going. And evolving. (Even if I am not sharing everything) Speaking of evolving... I can at least share this. This blog started as a way to express the trials and tribulations as a divorcee' trying to navigate single life in the Deep South's largest metropolis. Since then, I've dated..been hurt... loved again....gotten engaged... gotten married... bought a home... started a Phd program..passed my comprehensive exams... and now I had a baby <3 (pictured: HubbyDude and GoGo having K-care time ) Yes, I had a child. It was the one thing I had doubts that I would ever d...

***written at 11:00 pm after the Grand Jury's decision to not indite Darren Wilson for Mike Brown's Death *** ETA (11/26): My husband wanted to add his letters too. So here is the updated version Dear Son (from Mommy): You are not born yet. You haven't even been conceived. But do know I've wanted you since before I knew you existed or will exist. You are already awesome and wonderful and beautiful. You have been willed by the Holy Spirit to come to be. Everyone is praying for you, our baby boy. You will be nice and kind. You will be articulate and smart. You will have a a style all your own. You will have my eyes and your Dad's towering height. You will have manners and be a fine, young gentleman. You will make good grades and say your prayers before bed. You will open doors for ladies and carry bags....You will spend time in the kitchen with us because food is our love language and you need to learn to feed yourself. It is a life skill. You'll love...

This week the internet was all a-buzz about a young woman whose viral video depicting a day in the life of "street harassment" for women in New York City. The video has its flaws, as Roxane Gay has so eloquently pointed out. Most of the harassers are black and Latino. Nevertheless,...it's all harassment. Brave black women such as Feminista Jones and  artist Tatyana Fazlalizadeh are telling and shouting from the rooftops that this is not OK. ESP not OK to do to black women, whose bodies are targets of ridicule, objectification, and subjugation. Now, I am sure you are thinking:  what on earth does street harassment have to do with my husband and his compliments to me? I think everything. If you hear "hey beautiful" everyday as you walk the busy Metro streets, as you try to go to work or just take a jog around your neighborhood, you just brush it off as some tactic that men use to get in your pants. As a woman you think, "sure I am beautiful ...

*sigh* HubbyDude and I haven't been married a solid month. And already..folks are trying to find our baby registry at Target, plan showers, and talk to us about "you ain't getting no younger...you might as well do it" Actually...all the baby talk started as soon as we got engaged. And continued well into that phase. Even at the wedding, his Uncle gave a speech and said  "And please....make some babies". His sister wrote in a card to use that said "I can't wait for our kids to play together"....  All this pressure! Sure we've discussed children. And yes..my age is certainly a factor (as is his quite frankly). But, I know that most fertility studies aren't accurate and most certainly are outdated. How do you explain a 45 year old Halle Berry having a kid? I don't think it's science...sometimes it's Jesus (LOL). I am not naive. I know fertility drugs and infertility are a possibility. I have health issues that may ...

(Photo courtesy of Montoya Turner and Made You Look) Well...well...well. I know. I had the nerve to come back to you all married ...and not without a single HELLO or anything! Well.........let me fix that. Hello, darlings! :) After one heck of a fun wedding (I know...says the woman who was adamant about not even having a wedding) and to one SUPER romantic honeymoon....(whew chile..if a baby was made from that I wouldn't be surprised), I realized I've neglected my blog for a minute. I wrote a rather somber piece after the whole Ray Rice incident. But enough somberness....let's celebrate......... I think I may do a bit of a  quick and dirty "recap"..... and throw in a few pics here or there....... just a few. The weeks leading up to the wedding were def more hectic than the wedding weekend itself.  I even had a shower in my office after I told them NOT to go through all the hassle. It all started on Thursday when I met The Dude's extended f...

(Ray Rice, wife Janay, and their daughter Rayven) My parents have been married 37 years. My parents are still together. My father, an ex-cop, returned from the military shortly before I started 5th grade. Before that, I had a dream like vision of my dad, a super strong military man who visited on leave. I didn't know they had technically been legally separated since I was about 3 and his stint in the military was for him to "get his life together".  My father beat my mother more times than I could remember. Or that I can remember because I've blocked most of ages 8-18 out. My father was abusive,neglectful, controlling, manipulative and in some ways still is. He had several children outside his marriage. He had no remorse, felt no guilt, and did what he pleased. When he got out the Army, he was underemployed and drank a lot. That's stopped......(the drinking that is). When he became gainfully employed, money made it worse as he could exert all his control wit...

My wedding is in 4 months and 20 days............ I work out. I eat right 90% 85% if the time...  Granted I've been sick off and on for the better part of 8 months as well....and my fear is that I will appear like this coming down the aisle: I've always had a struggle with maintaining a healthy weight. Even when I was in high school and barely 125 lbs..I had "thick thighs" and got teased. So naturally, I do not want to waddle down the aisle looking like a big, puffy marshmallow. I picked a wedding dress that will suck in my shape. But knowing the tag says "Size 20" is so disheartening. And most of it is boobs and my tummy...blah! I have a dress fitting in almost a month. And I know that I will not have lost anything. I thought about doing some Arden's Garden detox for a few days. Or just forgoing meat. Or giving up my daily, 2 oz chocolate habit.... But I like food. And I like working out. But I also don't like having live...

Yesterday I was mad. I mean boiling-point mad, at my fiance'. I think it's the stress of everything. Wedding planning. New Home. New Job. My mother being ill. I've been ill......a lot of stuff. And it all spilled over one fateful Monday. Well actually, to be fair, it started on Sunday, and spilled over into Monday. I had had it up to HERE with everything, and that included my fiance' (quite unfairly). We rode to work together in relative silence, only chuckling here and there over the morning radio show. As I exited the car, I said "Ok bye"...and entered my building. Later on that evening, he returned home. He said his day was "just ok" which to me translated into it being kinda crappy. I was like "Oh"....and he said something very poignant: "When I dropped you off, you didn't give me my sugar (kiss). When you kiss me, that's my covering for the day...........I missed my sugar. Even if I am mad at you or vice-versa, ...