Sex and The Southern Belle

*sigh* I am always reluctant to share stories about my kid at work. I do not want to be one of those parents whose posts are ALWAYS about their kids. But what I experienced last week at work makes me realize that even my not-even-2 year old isn't immune from microaggression and that her lesson in  black womanhood will start early. My daughter was sick a week ago. She had roseola and missed almost a week of daycare. But prior to that, she had been enjoying it. I was apprehensive as she had been taken care of by family for well over a year. But I knew the day would come where she would go to daycare. Luckily for me, the daycare is walking distance from my job and I can pop over whenever I wanted to. I happened to come to pick her up pretty early. And I noticed a little boy helping her up as she fell. She was like "Bro, I am good!" and sorta fussed him in that toddler-type of way. And he giggled and backed off. HE was just being a good friend. I soon learned that she and...

"She taught me the birds and bees! She taught me how to be a woman. When it was that time of the month, I didn't go to my mom. I felt comfortable going to my big sister". My aunt Kerri said those words at my mother's funeral March 21. She stood there in her regal church lady's hat and suit, talking about her relationship with her older sister.  They shared secrets and things I didn't with my mother: parents, clothes, and heartache. My aunt spoke with tears in her eyes about her sister teaching her about sex. About love. Poignantly in the funeral home amongst others who nodded and appreciated her candor. Mama died March 13.  Heart failure. A combination of things associated with her 35 plus years battling Lupus. But she was more than that. She was a survivor. Tiny but mighty. My father said she fought it until the very end. She had only been married to one man but I got the feeling from our intimate conversations that she had fallen in love more than ...

Warning : I NEVER write about my personal love life. but..I have to get this off my 38 DDs. :) I'm in love. For the first time since my divorce, I am completely, head-over-heels in love with someone. It all came so suddenly and fast. Yet it was on time. God's time.  Granted, we did this dance around the whole idea of an "us" for sometime now. Flirting back and forth for almost a YEAR... until we finally said "Let's just go ahead and try it..." And doggone it...it was kismet! . He's my foodie soulmate. He is my football partner. He is my living teddy bear boo. He is the person who I laugh with the most these days.... But.... Love came at the worst time ever. My mother has been ill for some time now. She had pneumonia which triggered them to look at her heart. They found a clogged artery. Now it appears that after her bypass she will need rehab because she had a stroke during/after surgery. We are unsure. Not sure how long she will be stu...

I was reflecting more on the plight of the African American community and our lack of healthy, whole families. I, too, realize I am part of the problem. I’m a statistic.. But…I digress. My friend Cee told me something earlier this week about how other cultures make it their duty, their obligation, to make sure that their kids find a mate. Her example was about the Jewish community and how mother’s (and fathers too) are vigilant about finding a mate for their child. If they don’t, they feel that they are a failure as a parent (and sometimes as grandparents). And aside from communities that participate in arranged marriages, there are other cultures that take it upon themselves to find their kids a mate. She was also saying that Asian parents search tirelessly in their communities for a mate. They stop at nothing and ask everyone if they have a free cousin/brother/sister/neice/nephew/grandson/granddaughter/godchild that is single and available as a partner for their child. We don’t do th...