A heavy day.

I blog, when I get the chance, about my everyday life as a wife and mother. However, I journal about my struggles therein. Why do I do this? Oftentimes I’m sad about my lack of accomplishments, frustration in my marriage, or discontent of my business ventures.

I do this to compartmentalize or so I tell myself. But really, I do it to avoid my family from being embarrassed. To be honest, it’s not good for my mental health. I oftentimes feel like I am a fraud or doing a disservice by telling half truths. Those who know me know that I pride myself on being fully transparent. An open book if you may. So, I feel like I am offering the good parts of me to the public, via my blog while internalizing my failures in private. While that makes sense in a generalized way, to create a blog around this conception is merely a lie.

Starting today, I will share my whole truth.

I started blogging as a way to release the day from my mind and my heart but it hasn’t helped because I was only showing the brighter parts of my life. I believe that is why I blog infrequently.

When I was younger I used to get kicked out of my room because I loved to write. Like all day.  I would journal my emotions, write poetry about my dreams, and even dabble in writing songs about my projected future. I learned that it helped me cope with everyday issues. Putting my emotions and thoughts on paper helped me make more sense of everything in the world around me. That is why I wanted to start a blog. Initially, I shied away from being so transparent because I didnt want my family to feel hurt or embarrassed by my words, thoughts, or emotions. But that is doing a disservice to me. And the blog is about me.

I have struggled with this decision because I am always aiming to make the people around me happy but I have learned that I am just sacrificing another piece of myself. At this point I feel like there aren’t that many pieces of me left. I have to fix that.

Working on myself is a daily thing and I can’t build myself up if I am always missing pieces of the ladder.

I titled this blog “weight of the day” because Cameron asked how much days until Christmas to which his father replied you cannot weigh a day. And although his question was worded improperly, I do believe that you can weigh a day. It can be a heavy day, full of tasks and to-do or the burdens of the day. Or it can be a light day, with nothing to do or even a day planned out and running smoothly.

The weight of my day, today, is heavy. There is a lot to do but no desire to do it. There is a lot that I don’t want to do but must as a wife and mother. Perhaps I will take a moment for me. Maybe I’ll get a pedicure. It’s not a fun thing for me but a necessity as my nails have grown out and the color (orange) is fading. While it may seem like a pampering moment, for me, it’s just another thing on my to-do list. Atleast I’ll have an hour where no one is asking me to do anything.

M.

I didnt know.

I don’t think I have blogged all year! 🤦🏾‍♀️

This year started off so slowly but suddenly sped up. 😬

I decided, against my better judgment, to put the children in school this year instead of homeschooling. I still have mixed feeling about it. At the very start of the year there were threats of school shootings, knives being found on students, and daily police checks and lock downs. As this school year has progressed my children have shown me that them going to school is nothing more than some type of popularity contest and days filled with drama and bullying. I hate it. But, I allowed them to go because they wanted to try it out. 🥴

I will say that having all of the children out of the house for the day has been a nice reset for me. I have been working from home part time for a friend doing data entry, billing, and payroll. I have also decided to start my consulting firm back up in January. 😊

I am Hella excited about running my business again and with 10 years of experience now under my belt, I have a better idea of the dos and donts. I also decided to niche in and will no longer be working with start ups. 🥹

With that being said, I am now at a loss on whether or not I will keep them in school. The business, especially at launch, will need a lot of focus from me and them being in school is helpful. But, I still do not care for what and how they are learning. Also, teachers in general do not care the way they used to although I understand that children are not as mindful and respectful as they used to be.

I hate the circle of friends they have. I hate the demeanor they have now. And I definitely hate the habits they’ve picked up. I oftentimes wonder if that is on me because, logically speaking, if I did a better job parenting they would be more prone to be who they are instead of showing up to impress. I don’t know. Perhaps I’m overtaking and taking on too much self accountability.  🤷🏾‍♀️

I am aiming to dial them back but I know that’s not an easy feat so I am definitely not looking forward to that.

Anyway. This is my check in. What are you up to?

M.

Never to busy

Most people wonder how I manage to do so much. I used to refer them to the cliche that we all have the same twenty four hours in the day and that you have to make better use of your time.

The truth is, it’s hard some days and, as the older folks would say,”just keep on living”. Turns out, we don’t (technically) have the same twenty four hours in a day. We can easily stretch our hours by delegating the work load ultimately duplicating hour by hour depending on what we are doing.

That’s the trick. Yeah there are only twenty four hours in a day but if I am able to hire a cleaning company to do my two o clock chores then I can do my three o clock reading at two giving me free time at three. Does that make sense?

Now, while I don’t have a cleaning company, yet because it’s definitely on my list, I do have a husband and older children that I may delegate some things to like folding the laundry or taking out the trash.

Contrary to popular belief though, I rarely call on my children because I aim to stay away from the idea that my older children raise my younger children. Tuh. I gotta pay these jokers for a favor. Outside of keeping their room clean and doing their schoolwork that are moochers. And I mean that in the most loving way possible. But seriously, what helps me most is structure. Not too much because I want my children to enjoy their childhood. The structure is for me. If I sleep in then I need to expect the workload to be heavier because now I have fewer hours to get everything done. Accountability is a big deal to me so I can’t get mad at anyone but myself if I don’t get the things done that I planned on doing in a timely manner.

I give myself grace though because I know I put a lot on myself so when I rest I have zero guilt about it. I am never too busy for me.

Being a wife and mother isn’t always easy but it doesn’t have to be hard.

If you don’t have it to give .

I decided recently to adopt a motto that I thought of earlier this week.

I was coming from a midday doctor’s appointment, no, I am not pregnant. I was getting a check up after getting some blood work done. It’s okay, I’m fine.

I realized that I hadn’t eaten so I thought that perhaps I would swing by Taco Bell on the way home and get a taco. Yes, just one taco because I was trying to see if I was really hungry or just likes the idea that I could eat something without sharing. #momLife

Anywho. As I turned the corner, I saw a young man, maybe early thirties, holding a sign saying he’d fallen on hard times and anything would help. The desire was there for me to give and so was the sadness in realizing that I didn’t have it to give. I normally keep a couple dollars on me for such an occasion, but not today. All I could think about is, o was just relishing in the moment of having a taco by myself and now I felt completely guilty of my privilege.

Suddenly, I whispered to myself, you know kind of like when people say the Lord told me, if you don’t have it to give, you don’t have it to splurge.

Some may say that I was convicting myself but really, in today’s economy, I really don’t have it to splurge. It felt like the right thing. I could eat at home and he could not.

I remember a younger me that would have pulled over and taken him to get something to eat but, sadly, times have changed. I wish they didn’t. Being a woman, a black woman, out in the streets alone is unsafe enough. It would be unwise to invite more possible scenarios.

This was four days ago and I still see that man on the other side of town, the other side of life, in my mind.

It was a gentle reminder to be kind and be ready to give at all times. It’s how I was raised and how I raise my bunch. I’ll be sure to remember to keep my blessing cash in the side of my wallet. The fact that at least the 5 cars ahead of me also gave nothing makes it worse. I know we may not always have it to give but when we do, we should.

My new motto, if I don’t have it to give then I don’t have it to splurge. Y’all be easy out there. ❤️

A long time to love

It took me years to love my husband the way that he wanted. I love him the way that he needed; encouragement, affirming, consistent, uplifting, dutiful. I would like to believe that this is what helped him become the man that he is today.

We went through hard times right in the beginning. Nothing about infidelity or lack of trust, but economical. It shifted us into survival mode. We had to become a team, fast, or everything would fail.

Our backgrounds are very different. While my mother was hands down the best mother I could have hoped for, ours was a house ruled with love but discipline. She is a no nonsense woman and always stood on the right side of things. She would give you the shirt off of her back but she always knew to have a tee shirt on. We had structure and we abided by it. Very stable and lacked nothing. My father was in the military so he was the same way.

My husband was not raised very stable and the discipline he had was of his own shaping. They oftenmes went without and he’d set at an early age that the family of his own making would not suffer the same fate. He held to that.

Our relationship started off with a meet and greet then ghost.

His mother actually introduced us. It was not long after my daughter had just passed away in her sleep and unbeknownst to us, not too long before his mother would pass away. In fact, it was because of her sickness that we reconnected. We have been inseparable since.

I am not an affectionate person. My love language is affirmation. McRush’s is touch and connection. I have been through a lot in my life so it only further solidified my resistance to affection. I have always believed that feelings are solely based on an emotion in the moment thus inconsistent. Unreliable even. Needless to say, I would often instruct my husband instead of listening, loving. He always took it in gracefully and adjusted accordingly. My love was rigid but consistent. Luckily, he never waivered. He, too, was consistent in his love and affection.

Suddenly, I was softer, expecting his touch and seeing him smile whenever I would walk into a room.

I actually fought it wondering what was wrong with me. Life has always been something to conquer but now, it has become something to enjoy. I savor moments and aim to make memories. I have never known a love like his. I almost felt like I didn’t deserve a love like his. Now, I too, yearn for his touch on my arm, to hold my hand, to cuddle.

I still battle with this some days as an inner reflection to things I have yet to accomplish. Does his love slow me down? But at the same time, I am enjoying this stroll through life with him.

Parenthood is upper echelon ghetto!

Listen.

I realized the other day as I was making chicken and dumplings (from scratch might I add🥴) for the bunch, that everything that I hate, I mean top tier loathe, I am faced with on a regular basis ad a parent. 🤯

I hate cooking, yet it is not only a daily chore but oftentimes up to 5 times a day. The crazy part is that about 50% of the meals I cook, I don’t even eat due to exhaustion, too much tasting, or it’s just not what I want. It’s not good enough to dislike cooking. These children want everything from scratch. However, this I can not be too upset about because, ewe processed.

Most of the women in my family love to cook, and I mean thrown down in the kitchen. My mom, my sister, my aunts, grandmother. But I wasn’t bitten by that bug. And I am okay with that. 🤣 I can cook, that bug I was bitten by. I just don’t like to do it. I guess if I had to dig into the why, I would say that it’s an act of love that’s not appreciated. Hmph. I learn something new about me every day. I mean, they devour every meal and even say thanks when handed their plates, but it’s more of a habit than gratitude.

I need to sit with this. 🤔

I hate repeating myself. I have always hated this. As far back as 11, I can remember someone said “huh” while I was speaking. I looked at them not even 3 feet away like, how did you not hear me? I repeated myself, and she followed up with another. “Huh.” I was so irritated. How is it that we are having a conversation and you don’t hear me? I went to the house. 🤨 To me, repeating myself means that you didn’t respect me enough to listen to me. If you asked me a question and I had to repeat my answer, what are you doing that made me less important at that moment? Why would you ask me a question and not listen for a response? Needless to say, I repeat myself a lot around here, and it drives me crazy. 🤪

You know what else I hate. Noise. I love my solitude and quiet time. Do you know what I don’t get? Yup, you guessed it. Every waking moment is filled with arguing, fussing, fighting, and attitudes. And that’s just from the children. 🤣 I never was like that with my siblings. We got along very well. Perhaps it is because I’m the oldest. My brothers fought constantly, but they were so close in age that it’s almost natural. My sister and I are almost 10 years apart, so she was my baby. But still, we got along. Now, I retreat to my room to read (I love reading), but even that is interrupted every five to 10 minutes with a question or complaint. 😭

I could go on and on about the contrast between parenting and my peace, but overall parenting is an experience different to everyone. For me, it’s filled with love because it’s mutual, and they do show it, just in their own way. The experience is full of beautiful faces, healthy bodies, sound minds, and plenty of hugs. But that doesn’t mean it’s not ghetto. 😏

Don’t get caught slipping

And that’s exactly what I have been doing.

In sure u don’t have to tell you that life gets hectic even with plans, structures, and rituals. When you have 12 children like I do, sometimes all of that can go out the window at any moment.

I am supposed to blog every Sunday. I have it on my calendar. I have an alarm set and everything, yet here I am. I think it’s been a month. 🤦🏾‍♀️

It’s not like my business blog, I can time those out. In fact, I do for about a month at a time. And I blog on their daily. The difference is, on Herr, I blog from what my experience is, specifically for that week. With the business blog, it’s based on my knowledge. Plus, the day gets away from me really fast.

With that being said…. what’s up, friends?!

There is so much going on. I pulled the children from public school, so I’m back to homeschooling. I love the flexibility of it, as do the children, BUT they miss the getting out aspect of it, so I have been more intentional about taking daily trips and incorporating it in their curriculum.

In addition, I grew accustomed to having the day to focus on my business, so juggling those too has been a new challenge since I was able to put more on my plate I am now trying to delegate more. I hired someone, but it didn’t work out, so I’m back to square one, kinda.

It’s not stressful, just a lot, but the business is still moving along quite nicely. In fact. I had the opportunity to speak with Atlantic Beach today. It is such an honor, too, because it is the first and only black owned beach in America. If I could lock in with them, I would be so elated. I mean, this place is a legacy. A pearl, a black pearl. If you don’t know about them you really need to look them up. Chefs kiss. And, I consulted with the city of Florence and Jacksonville to help me prepare for this. It’s going to be amazing.

The children are well. Ava and Ian need to get surgery, but they will be fine. I meed to make a doctor appointment for Kera because her eyes ate turning red but not like conjunctivitis. It’s a different red, so I am a little bothered by that.

Isaiah is set to graduate next month, and I am so proud of him. Bella is doing well with her college courses. I feel that o tainted her by putting her on school. High school, to be specific. She embraced a culture that us just not her. She quickly became popular but lost her own identity. Now, it’s lashes, nails, and weave. She was so content with her natural look, and she was the priority now it’s her friends, and I hate it so much. I have to figure this one out because not only is it making me sad for her, but it’s hurting my pockets.

McRush started a transport company, so we are also working on that, plus he assists I’m Rush Consulting Firm.

Mt Marine is flourishing and preparing to get on the real estate game, which is exciting to watch him grow. I love it.

I have been contemplating getting weight-loss surgery. I put myself on a 3 month plan to lose 30 pounds. If I fail at that. I’m getting the duodenal surgery. McRush doesn’t like it, and that’s why I set a 3 month goal. Otherwise, I would have been under the knife. For me, it’s hard to prioritize my weight-loss because im.always going and no matter how much I plan to wake up early, exercise, or eat specific things, I simply get lost on the sauce if life. I’m working on it, though. I’ve lost about 10 pounds so far, so I’m off to a great start. Let’s pray that I can keep the momentum.

That’s about it. OH! I and a couple of other moms started a podcast called chaos and chalkboards where we discuss being a big family, homeschooling, and all the nasty looks and stupid questions we get. Keep an eye out for that.

What have you been up to?

One question I hate to be asked is…

As a mother who has birthed 12 children, I mean 12 pregnancies because apparently I pulled the short stick 🙄 and I get a lot of questions. Most of them I hate.

I mean, there are so many questions that you can ask me. How much food do I cook in a day? What type of vehicle do I drive that can hold my family safely and comfortably? Are there any twins or triplets?

As a matter of fact, my last 3 births were at home! How exciting is that? Create questions around that. Were you scared? Did you have a water birth? Was there a doula?

Anything

Out of all the lifestyle questions that you can ask, people always go to my sex life, even knowing I am married and the children are his. I occasionally get the “do they all have the same dad?” And I can honestly say that I’m not too mad at that one because, contrary to popular belief, I think people are hoping that they are, so I always feel good about my answer.

But the questions that border on creepy and definitely none of your business people usually try to disguise it as a joke, more than likely because they know that they shouldn’t be asking. Questions like, you know what causes that [pregnancy], right? Or. You all don’t have a TV at home? 🤨

We get a slew of inappropriate questions, but by far, the most disrespectful and inappropriate one is the one I hate the most. This question makes me feel probed and examined even with my clothes on.

“Do the babies just slide out now?”

This is also the dumbest question I get as if vaginas were not a whole damn muscle or kegals didn’t exist. As if your body isn’t known to go back to its natural form or babies ruin your hole experience. Pun intended.

If the babies just fell out, why would my husband still have sex with me? Perhaps he likes feeling like the clapper of a bell? Tuh.

Kegals are my friend. We communicate atleast 3x a day. Mother nature loves me, and with this WAP, I am convinced that I’m God’s favorite.

How’s THAT for inappropriate? 🤣

Black mothers hate their daughters 😒

There is this deep-rooted question that [black] people dont ask but want to know the answer to.

Why are these mothers raising their daughters but loving their sons.

More directly, why are mothers so hard on their daughters but coddling their sons.

For a long time, I felt that. Many women attribute it to mothers being jealous of their daughters whilst being gentle on their sons and allowing them to be all over the place (both physically and emotionally).

When I was a single mother. I coddled the hell out of my boy as a single mother. So I thought I knew. I was like, yeah, we do do that. But maturing and now raising 12 children with a husband ( their father). I see this differently.

As a woman, a mom, I am made to be gentle, nurturing, loving, embracing, and encouraging. That’s what I do. But, with daughters, it’s not competition. It is being firm with my daughters so they don’t make my mistakes. I have wisdom now. But I talk to them and explain it. Some of our mothers didn’t know how to do that. Their love came out frustrated because they were scared for you. This world will eat our girls alive. I talk to my girls about every mistake I ever made, and I remind them that they will make some as well, probably repeating some of mine. But it’s okay, never feel like you can’t come to me and we will work it out. That’s how life works. But see, some of our mothers didn’t have that, so they don’t know what that looks like, and some of our mothers may still be traumatized by the stigmas placed on them because of their mistakes.

Having a husband and very present father shows me even more that I am doing it right. Because I do love on my boys hard. But their father is there to get them on the path to manhood. That’s not my job. I can teach my sons many things, but how to be his own man is not one of them. Sure, I can teach him to be the man I want…. read that again. I can give him the descriptions and attributes of what I believe a man should be, but that’s molding him into a man for a woman like me. What if that’s not the woman he wants?

I tell this story about my oldest.
I potty trained him, but I could not convince him to pee standing up (he was potty trained at 1). One day, a girlfriend of mine said her husband could watch him. I needed a sitter and usually wound up taking him to work. This man watched my son for 4 hours, and when I picked him up, he was standing and peeing. He said he only needed to show him 1x.

As a mother, it is my duty to raise my daughters and love my sons. It is my husband’s job to raise his sons and love his daughters. This is the beauty of family. It comes with balance. I never have to be told Happy fathers Day because I am a mom. Even when I was raising my boy, I was only capable of being his mom.

We have lost balance because of the bickering and anger of feeling dupes, excluded, and betrayed by a lover only to be left holding the diaper bag. It’s hard, I know. But we have to be open to playing our roles and allowing the other parent to play theirs. This is how we create well- rounded individuals to lead our future.

This is what self accountability looks like. And I’m sure someone will drag me or adamantly disagree, and that’s fine. But I’m not going to argue with you. If you disagree, share it with your own commentary.

This is my FAMILY thought for the day.
You’re welcome. ❤️

Closing out 2023 in 2024 🤦🏾‍♀️

Typical “me” behavior 🙄

Listen. It was a bumpy end of the year. 3 deaths, schooling transitions, business transitions, and trying to do things I didn’t really want to do, like go back to school.

I’m tired just thinking about it! Somehow, I managed to crawl my life into the new year. 🙃

There has been a lot of strange news happening, but the strangest news of all, to me, is I’m coming into the 2024 year, NOT pregnant 🤪

Seriously, though. I know we did some things, so it won’t ever happen again, but it just feels foreign to be 2 years in (almost) and not have had a positive pregnancy test.

>disclaimer< I am a happily married woman who welcomes all of our pregnancies and births because I can

I will not lie and say it hasn’t been rough. I noticed as I age, my patience thins out just a little more. And baby, if you know me, it wasn’t that thick to start. It’s not like I have NO patience, but what I do know is I have NO tolerance. Whew, a day in my shoes, and you would think I was pretty rough because I can not be around someone who doesn’t think, use their logic, or apply common sense. Like, who raised you?

Well, they say that your children will exercise you in the ways you hate. Oh. My. GOD!

I can’t even ask them, who raised you because it’s ME! I raised them. But why? Why?!

I will point to a spot, and they will look all around the spot. I legit be wanting to cry, like, yall can’t be this dumb. 🤣 Smart as a whip in those books but my god…. I swear I wish I raised them in Philly because they lack wherewithal, and I just can’t. I blame it on their father because ain’t no way, Boi. Ain’t NO way.

These jokers have been testing my patience with everything. School, housework, you name it. So, I decided that it’s time to go back on schedules. If it’s an action, it had a schedule. Eating, cleaning, laundy, vacation, day-to-day. Ev 👏🏾ver👏🏾e👏🏾thing👏🏾. If I could, they’d breathe on schedule.

On another note, I learned that I was gentle parenting all wrong. But I’m practicing the new way, so I will keep you posted.

It’s not New Year New Me.. it’s the same old me 🤷🏾‍♀️

Sorry. Not sorry.