Feeling myself today! Ego by Beyonce'

God Bless Childbearing Women...

As I approach my 30th birthday, my favorite friend likes to remind me that, according to her,  my "biological clock" is ticking.  I would say since about my senior year of high school, I have been saying that I don't want any children.  Perhaps I am scarred and or scared, or a little of both.  My mother had 3 children by 3 different men.  I would even venture so far as to say that she was 3 different women each time she gave birth.  My sister at 14, my brother at 25ish and myself at 37.  I never went without, at least as far as I know.  My mom was a GREAT mother.  The story I was told in regard to my dear late father, was that he told my mom "No woman gets pregnant at 40" and went on to imply that she was trying to "trap" him for marriage.  Thank God my mother kept me.  However, when I was about 6 years old, I "met" my father for the first time.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  We lived on Vera St.  When he came to the door, I yelled to my mother "Some man is at the door, I don't know if it's my father or not!" We had spaghetti for dinner.  I remember wanting my father to come in like a knight and shining armor and we'd be one big happy family like in the books I read or like my friends' families.  That wasn't the case.  My mother was my best friend.  Let me tell it, the sun rose and set just for her.  I wanted that relationship with my father, it just never seemed to happen.  When I was in college at Hampton, we began to bond a little more and finally, talked on a regular basis.  Shortly thereafter he died.  I was so distraught, feeling like we'd never have an opportunity to "fix" our broken relationship.

I always tell people when I see pregnant women, it makes me want to pee.  Like literally, that whole human sitting on top of my bladder just doesn't seem like a good idea.  Or watching videos in health class, of the baby swimming around in the woman's stomach.  I could only imagine morning sickness being the equivalent or worse than a bad hangover...MULTIPLE DAYS IN A ROW!  My cycle makes me feel like crap.  I don't understand how women deal with the symptoms that come a long with pregnancy.  And then the whole thing of pushing a human body out of hole the size of (whatever size yours is)...I think I'll pass...The whole thought of pregnancy makes me want to throw up in my mouth.  Then of course as an educator, I look at all the demon children I've run across and hit them with that same phrase "That couldn't be my child!"  I mean what if you don't like them?  You went through all of that ish and now you have a child you don't like.  That's whack! And then you have to take care of them for essentially the REST OF YOUR LIFE!  So many children are born into broken/dysfunctional situations. I think it's so unfair.  There are times when I don't want to be here and to subject a child to that is not right.

So I was out with my favorite friend yesterday.  We went to The Children's Place to buy clothes for her daughter.  I thought the clothes were adorable.  But as more screaming babies entered the store, I was over it.  lol  There were strollers galore. I'm sure that the layout of the store had to be designed in a way that would accommodate strollers.  And they have to hire extremely patient people to deal with crying babies and the multitasking mothers who are distracted by them.  I would assume my favorite friend would love for us to bond on the level of motherhood, but I just don't know that I can get with it.  I kind of like my freedom.  After spending so much time and energy taking care of my mother, I am glad to have time to take care of me.  Having children is a huge sacrifice.
Another friend of mine acts as though pregnancy and motherhood is like a day at the spa or the beach.  I'm so confused.  She already has two children and is very strategically planning a 3rd.  Like her fascination and focus on the process is probably the extreme opposite of mine.  I love her much and wish her luck, however, I think I will live vicariously through the two of them, at least for a while.  At least I can give their babies back when I'm done.
In comparison, I have yet, a third friend who has no children, but is saying that she's ready.  She's ready to settle down and have a family.  I would say that I probably agree with her.  As terrified as I am of marriage and children, I secretly want to be in love and have a family also.  My family isn't very close knit at all, so I always admire people who have a great family life.  Sometimes I get lonely and want to give my life meaning and purpose.

Talking to a gentleman friend the other day, he expressed a desire for a family and as he termed it "white picket fence."  I quickly snapped back "You don't want that. You're too busy having fun."  But that wasn't right, I shouldn't have said that.  I didn't mean it.  He really impressed me by being man enough to articulate what he wanted, when obviously, I haven't arrived there yet.  I went on to say "Well what if you don't like the children? What if it doesn't work out between you and your mate?"  He very calmly replied, "Well damn, you just gonna skip over the marriage and head straight to the divorce.  Is that all you think about? Seriously?"  *blank stare*  This conversation has haunted me all week.  I had to do some real soul searching.  I used to believe, what happened?  Then I went on to tell him about how I have a friend who's family I'm very close to.  I call her my sister and her mother I call mommie, and her cousin is one of my best friends.  I go to all of their cookouts and family gatherings and I'm actually planning on attending the family reunion.  I was telling him how I love being around them because they have such a great family dynamic.  He looked at me and said "Hmmm, you enjoy their family life, huh?  Interesting." Wow.  With all that being said, I salute childbearing women, maybe one day I will be brave enough to join the ranks.

Are covers explicit or do you have to read the WHOLE book?

I have always been a master of disguise. Come on, my name is Heather. Like my REAL first name is Heather. How many black Heathers do you know? Sometimes I can get really extra and proper on the phone because that seems to get things done. My name and persona don't always seem to match what one may THINK is my demographic. I love talking to someone on the phone and then meeting them in person...It's like "Ooooooh, so YOU'RE Heather?". Smile. "Yes, I'M Heather". They walk away only to return later, "Heather?" As if in the time that they were gone, I suddenly became Tamika or Shay Shay or Labonquenesha. My mother was NO fool and certainly didn't raise one, but it's always extremely amusing to me. It's refreshing and delightful to find those who are intelligent and humble enough to treat me with respect regardless of what my name is or what I look like.

At first glance, when I say I'm from the East Side and I live in Decatur, "where it's greater", I'm already getting the side eye. Then factor in my magenta (yes, magenta) dread locs and my affinity for down south booty shake music, after all, I am a product of my environment, and all hell breaks loose!

My freshman year at Hampton University taught me a lot. I got called "country", although I've NEVER lived on a farm. Wait, my grandfather grew peanuts and moscadines, does that count? Anyway, I also got called "ghetto", I've NEVER lived in a ghetto either. Simply because my dialect obviously denoted that I was from the south. One dude even ventured so far as to ask me if my mother drove a tractor to work. Smile. I could've chosen to be offended, but I knew the baby honestly didn't know any better.

As a child, I was always plagued by "talking white" and having a "white name". "You must be stuck up?". I never understood why I MUST be stuck up...Curious, observant, cautious, skeptical, sometimes demanding. I don't know that I would say "stuck up.". I've always been a people watcher. That's a defense mechanism for me. I've always felt like the people strong enough in their character to seek out mine, were "worthy" of my time & friendship. I guess I do sound stuck up, huh. Touche'

I learned a valuable lesson about judging a book by it's cover when I met "the prototype.". He was very humbly secure and confident...sexy...But initially I was certainly acting like a B-I-T-C-H. And it's unfortunate, because I'm really sweet as pie. But some people will exploit that, so I feel like I have to ward off the fraudulent folks. Please think I'm stuck up and just don't talk to me. Same thing with my best friend. He looks like he could be a member of Young Money, but when he opens his mouth, he's incredibly intelligent and well read.

I suppose, of course, there are times when the cover glitters, but certainly isn't gold, bronze, silver or a metal at all! I like bright colors, so bright colorful people often attract my attention. But I'm also curious about that person sitting off to themselves, that nobody's talking to. To be honest they typically have the best stories. In fact, that person used to be me. So, I can relate. To each his own on deciding how to filter people, but don't miss out on something or someone good because you judged by the cover. Smooches!
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

People Watching vs Watching People

The other day, I was sitting in front of Lenox Mall in Atlanta, waiting for my favorite friend to arrive and I began to reflect.  I was watching the different groups of people enter and exit the mall.  I was also noting their purchases.  Very interesting dynamic.  There were the Asian chics in seemingly uncomfortably tall heels and teeny tiny dresses.  There were Ethiopians in throwback Rocawear and Enyce leaving with bedding.  There were Caucasians with faded polos, cargo shorts and Birkenstocks.    There were the African American guys in big bodied Expeditions with tinted windows and ridiculously big tires and rims.  There were African American women who seemed to have just left work, speaking abnormally loud on their cellphones.  Caucasian women with teeny bags from Arden B.  There were Travis Porter clones.

People always make me very curious.  I always want to know their story.  When I am out and about, I like to people watch.  While I'm in restaurants, I like to try to figure out people's relationships, based on what I can hear them say or how they physically interact with each other.  Her arms are folded, she's mad.  He keeps looking down her shirt.  I wonder what they're talking about, he looks very uncomfortable.  Did she just roll her eyes? Wow!  So, as I sat in my car watching people enter and exit the mall, I started to think.  It's amazing how the people who sometimes look carefree are usually those that are.  And in contrast, they people who are obsessively and excessively ornate and manicured are typically not.  It just makes me wonder.  Do big cars and big chains denote status?  And to who?  How do people know the real ballers aren't driving Camrys?

In dialog and observation,  it's amazing to me the things that we value and invest our time and money in.  I have a friend who's goal for the year was to buy an S-class Benz.  It frightened me, because he doesn't own any property.  In my mind, and the way I've been trained, you definitely want more assets than liabilities.  Which can also be translated as focusing on things that appreciate.  Cars depreciate as soon as you drive them off the lot.  From my experience, paying rent is oftentimes more expensive than the average mortgage.  However, I understand that owning property may not be a priority or even feasible for some people.  Back to my point though, who are we trying to impress?  The people watching?  Who's watching people?

Is this you?

Last one for today! Lions, Tigers, and bears...Jazmine Sullivan

Throwback: Usher ...Follow Me