I went canvassing after I voted this morning. I am a volunteer with the Michigan Democratic Party. It was cold, windy, and raining. Ponchos and hand warmers were provided for canvassers.
There is no excuse if you didn’t vote in the Midterm Elections 2018 today. Especially Michigan. If I can walk door-to-door in the rain, then you can get out and vote.
In case you’re wondering, yes I am holding a Deadpool umbrella. Comic book nerds vote too, you know.
There are so many things I want to see happen this year. So that I don’t bore you I narrowed my list down to 10.
10 things I want to see happen in year 2018 are:
As always, thank you for visiting my blog. Please feel free to add what you would like to see this year in the comment section below.
I know the title is long, but I tried to shorten it. Well, I didn’t try at all, but I thought about it for a quick second. However, this blog post will be short and to the point.
How I handle the C word
No mother wants to be told that her child has cancer. Two weeks before my son’s 11th birthday back in June, I learned that what was thought to be a bruise on his leg from falling while running was actually a mass. A tumor. Osteosarcoma. So just how in the hell am I supposed to handle the fact (according to biopsy report) that my child has bone cancer? That my child has to undergo intense chemotherapy-surgery-chemotherapy treatment over the next few months? Each chemo admission ranges 2-5 days in the hospital. On top of all that, my son is already special needs. He has a rare condition called Tuberous Sclerosis Complex (TSC) and a multitude of other health issues.
My son and I don’t like saying the word cancer, so we say C word instead. He also says tumor while I say osteo. Sometimes we don’t say anything at all. So how am I handling it? Let’s just say that I’m handling it, that I’ve come a long way since being told the heartbreaking news.
How I plan to handle the B Word
I should have typed word in plural form because this section actually consists of two B words.
The first word is book. I wrote my first book, Leaving the Hidden Path: Guidance for Women with Young Kids Considering Divorce. My original plan was to launch it on August 15th which will be 1 year since my divorce. All hell broke loose when I learned of my son’s life threatening illness, so I had to put my writing aside for a minute. I am now making plans to release the book in September.
Now for the second B word. Let’s see if you can guess the word by looking at the gorgeous lady in the picture below.
Okay, so the gorgeous lady is me. I am very self-confident so I will always call myself beautiful, gorgeous, pretty, and sexy. I was having a bad day last year so I called one of my best friends and burst out crying as soon as he answered the phone. After telling him what was going on, he suggested I get a Bad Bitch shirt made. Bad bitch? I rarely say bad words but it sound like a good idea, so I went to the mall and had the shirt made. Some people like to mistake a person’s kindness for weakness. Sometimes you overlook it, but when you don’t, well that’s when you become a bitch. So I had to learn how to become a bad bitch. Don’t worry, I’m only one when necessary, lol.
My book’s target audience is women with minor children considering divorce, and it contains examples from my personal life. That’s where the bitch part comes to play. I am already anticipating being called that and plenty of other things when I release the book. But hey, I helped myself out of a situation, and now I want to help other women who may be in the same boat. Getting called a bitch, or bad bitch, is okay. It is not the first time I’ve been called one, and I guarantee you it won’t be the last.
How I will never handle the S word
Maintaining my sanity is a bit tricky. A special needs child newly diagnosed with osteosarcoma (bone cancer) in addition to a long list of other health concerns. A book about divorce that I plan to launch in September. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that a fundraiser is being planned by my ex-husband’s co-workers for our son for next month. I am still releasing my book next month. Chaos, chaos, chaos.
The average mom wouldn’t even be able to handle half of what I have been through, and still going through. But will I ever handle the S word, or my sanity though? I have no idea. Some might call me crazy, others will call me supermom or superwoman. Only time will tell. But right now, time is telling me to be that bad bitch!
Oops! I said this blog post would be short didn’t I? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this random post as much as I enjoyed typing it. I just wanted to blow off some steam.
It has been a long time since I have posted my random thoughts, so I have quite a bit to share with you. In case you have forgotten or you are a new reader to my blog (welcome!), my comments are in no particular order. They are just as random as this blog post.
Those are my random thoughts for now. I could go on but I am getting sleepy. Feel free to add your own random thoughts or comments below and thank you for visiting my blog!
A member on a social media site where I hang out at always posts about being positive. He reminds us, on a daily basis, to emit positive vibrations and to stay dope. One of his updates hit home when he posted about being different, to just be yourself, don’t try to be like anyone else, and to stay dope. I commented that I love my unique dopeness.
I recently revisited one of my blog posts from two years ago, I Need Your Help. In that post I ranted about black female stereotypes and how I did not fit into those categories. I still do not fit in and I do not care. I don’t try to be like everyone else because I like being me. I love my unique dopeness.
Because of my uniqueness, I have never really fit in with my own people, African-Americans. I have been talked about and laughed at since childhood. Family, classmates, co-workers, and strangers. Out of all the races blacks give me the most problems, especially females.
Although it is rare, a black male will try to check me for being “different.” Earlier this year a black male told me that I must be married to a white man because of the way I talk. That was pretty much the only time a male went there with me. He was a lowlife so I didn’t even I nclude him in the equation.
I mostly get “white girl” or “you sound like a white girl” from the sisters. It is a shame that my own people laugh at me for using my vocabulary. We all attended school so they should know and use their vocabulary as well.
Comic books, nerd, bookworm, introvert, tech geek, model rockets, astronomy lover, Trekkie, cartoons, WWE. That is all me. I never wanted a traditional wedding so I got married in Jamaica.
I am not going to change because I love being me. I am unique. I am dope. And I will always embrace my unique dopeness.
You don’t fit in with people, people fit in with you.
My social networking brother told me that dope statement when I informed him I was writing this random blog post and why.
By the way, take a good look at that pretty lady in the photo above. Beautiful, natural, and flawless. I rarely post pictures of myself but I found it appropriate to do so for this post.
WARNING: Rant mode. No bars hold.
Don’t wait until I’m dead and gone to be buying me no flowers. Give me my flowers now while I can still see and smell them.
My mother has been saying those words for as long as I can remember. I guess I never had to worry about it because I always gave her a handful of flowers, even if I did pick them out of someone’s yard while walking home from school! She talked to me about that but I kept doing it anyway. I also gave her flowers, including dandelions (you thought they were pretty, yellow flowers too), from our own yard. My kids are 14 and 10 and they still give me dandelions, I mean flowers!
I am just now realizing that my mother was referring to more than just flowers.
When my brother passed away back in July, all kinds of folks came out of the woodwork claiming he was their friend, homeboy, and how they had love for him. But not one of those so-called friends visited my brother once he was rendered non-ambulatory the last few years of his life. Not even a phone call or snail mail.
My mother is not just talking about flowers, about how she does not want anyone to wait until she is dead to buy flowers for her grave. She wants visitors at her home while she is still alive. Call her on the phone and say hello. She does not want anyone to wait until her funeral to give that little 2-minute talk about how nice she was and how much she was loved because she won’t be able to hear any of it.
I am not on a certain social media site often, but I wanted to read an important notification I had received. When the site pulled up on my phone, my brother’s obituary was staring me in the face. I started sweating and my heart dropped to the floor. His complete obituary was posted on social media. That shocked the hell out of me because at that time, I hadn’t even seen the obituary in its entirety yet.
I wanted to yell, “WHAT THE FU*K, but I couldn’t because I was in my son’s hospital room (admitted 2 days after my brother’s death). Why post an obituary and say a lot of good stuff for the world to see on your social media page when you didn’t even call or visit? Someone posted that he had planned to visit my brother on a certain day. Yeah right. The day mentioned was the day AFTER he died. Put a lid on it. Where were you while he was on the ventilator (life support) the last 1 1/2 months of his life?
My sister attended a funeral a couple weeks before our brother’s. A man sat two rows behind her and loudly talked to someone about how he visited the deceased when he was alive in the hospital and at home. He said while at the hospital he asked the man if he remembered him and he said yes.
That was a lie. My sister was the caregiver of the deceased. She said the man had gotten very ill and had stopped talking. So there was no way a verbal conversation was held in that hospital room. She also described the so-called friend to the owner of the deceased’s home because she didn’t recognize him. The owner said no one fit that description had visited the home.
You can’t pay a visit or phone call, but you can run your mouth on social media and out in public. This type of behavior is not only attention-seeking, it is also disrespectful.
I don’t care who you are and where you are. You can live next-door to Santa Claus at the North Pole for all I care. DO NOT wait until a person leave this world to start claiming your love for him or her. Do it now while your voice can be heard, your smile can be seen, and flowers can be smelled.
This blog post is not just for so-called friends, it is for family members as well.
As I step down from my soapbox, I would like to give everyone reading this blog post a flower. You are a great person and I appreciate you for taking time out of your busy schedule to read my blog.
Words By Me 