I Wake Up In The Basement I’m So Hungry/ I Must Be Here Sleepwalking

How to explain the unexplainable.

Sunday night I made homemade spaghetti and meatballs with ceaser salad for dinner and the kids loved it. Everything was all good. So I decided to send the leftovers with them to daycare for lunch the next day. I asked Z to get out 2 containers for me to divide it up for them. She made a big deal about her getting the green lid one and Little E said he wanted the green one too, leaving the blue lid unclaimed (seems like a stupid detail but just wait). I ignored them hoping they would forget about it by the morning, a pick your battle kinda situation and just closed them up and made my salad in my own Tupperware, with a red lid for anyone keeping track. Then I stacked all three in the fridge, thinking nothing more about it.

Skip forward to Monday morning when I tell Little E to get their lunches ready and he says there’s only one spaghetti container in the fridge. I yell from the bathroom to look harder KNOWING I just put it in there last night, three Tupperware one on top of the other. You can’t miss it. A minute later he calls back saying it’s not there.

So I’m thinking he’s just being lazy and not seeing something that’s surely right in front of his nose, and I stomp off to the kitchen prepared to whip the door open and prove him wrong and find the green lidded container that had most likely dropped behind something and go one with our day. I open the fridge. I look. I can’t find it. I LOOOOOOK hard. It’s not there. I look in the freezer. It’s not there. I check kitchen cabinets. Nope. I look in the damn garbage. Nothing. I call Z thinking she might’ve possibly hid it in some secret place to ensure she got the green top. She has no clue. I might’ve gone over board on my interrogation techniques, because seriously wtf could it have gone, but I could tell both the kids had no clue, and as a mom you know if your kid is lying. So I let it go as far as them lying went.

Then, since I was running out of options I even went so far as to check to make sure all the outer doors to our house were locked (lol I know) to make sure no one came into our house in the middle of the night and indulged on my fantastic spaghetti and then left leaving everything else untouched. Locked, obviously. So now I’m left with sleep walking/eating? And I’m like 100% sure it’s not my kids since I hear when they get outta bed to use the washroom. Little E is in a metal bunk bed that makes hella noise when he moves let alone gets in and out. And Z just doesn’t understand how to open a door quietly. So was it me? Like honestly did I eat or hide this stupid container? I’m not sure about anything anymore.

So I give Little E my salad since we’re running out of time and I have to get to work. When we got home I started a mass hunt for this thing. I looked through the fridge thoroughly again, under couch cushions and beds. Double-checked all the cupboards and drawers. Backpacks and purses. Everywhere and anywhere I thought of I searched and I can’t find the stupid Tupperware. And I know I used it because it’s not in the cupboard clean. It’s not in the dishwasher. I remember the kids fighting over it.

So we have some proverbial fairy stealing pasta making me go crazy. But I honestly have no idea what happened to it, and I don’t want to find it in a week or two based on the rotting smell coming out of somewhere.

And if someone in my house IS sleep walking? Well that’s just a whole other level of stress I don’t have patience for.

– Alice Cooper / The Awakening –

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My Shadow’s The Only One That Walks Beside Me

I went to Wal-Mart last week and found this  for Z’s room (see previous post for reference)

IMG_1291 (Edited)

Yes, I know the hair is covered which kinda defeats the purpose, but my options were limited and it was better than nothing. Next I went to the dollar store intent on buying gold paint to redo her dresser handles and match the painting (which is massive) and ended up calling my mom for advice. This was where I made my mistake. All I needed was advice on if the kind of paint they had there would stick to the metal handles or if I needed to go elsewhere, since I’m not a crafty person I wanted to get it right. That’s it. But nope, as my 31 years should have taught me long ago it’s not that simple with my mom.

I guess I just still feel like no matter who you are/what you’ve done, you should always be able to have a relationship with YOUR OWN MOTHER! At least that’s what I’m trying to teach my children. So anyways, I guess deep down in me, I keep trying. Trying no matter how many times I’ve been hurt by this woman, to keep reaching out. Opening up, and just end up getting slapped in the face.

So I’m in the dollar store and I call her for paint advice. She really doesn’t know but just tells me to get what they have and that it should work and to by some of the cheap brushes they have there too. I have some at home but I just let her say her thing and give her motherly advice even though I say twice I already have brushes. I briefly explain why I’m doing this for Z, and it doesn’t really faze my mom, which bothers my on it’s own, but I know by know not to expect much from her in that area. She’s kind of a you made you bed now sleep in it woman. I go on to give other small updates regarding my life. How I registered Little E for soccer, she asks why didn’t I sign Z up for dance, I explain it doesn’t start until the fall. I talked about how I was looking for a second job, both to keep busy as well as meet new people and bring in extra income. She poo-pooed the place I was interviewing at. I explained how I had just come from the Dr’s that morning and filled my seizure med’s and had also asked for a prescription for anti-depression medications, because I just didn’t think I could make it until spring anymore, and basically rounded out the call with “and that’s what’s new” to which she responded with “Actually C none of that is really new. It’s all very round about and the same old stuff for you”

So I was just like, ok bye. And all I could think about is how my family always complains that I never share things with them. Can they not see that when I do share, I get responses like this? So I sent her the following text. IMG_1286

IMG_1287

And so I find myself here.

On my blog.

At the request of my oh so loving mom. With literally nowhere else to turn. I’ve made no friends here in 8 months. K and I no longer talk and I long for those meaningful conversations with someone who at least pretends to care.

I have nothing. And it’s more difficult than it should be for anyone pretending to live at a level where they have to maintain sanity for the sake of their kids, but when does even that seem stupid and pointless?

And for those wondering, I haven’t spoken to my wonderful mother since, nor do I have any plans to in the foreseeable future. 🤷🏻‍♀️


-Green Day / Boulevard Of Broken Dreams-

I Wish I Could Be Every Little Thing You Wanted All The Time

Last night Z nearly broke my heart.

I was washing her hair, which could be considered a full time job, although we do it on average once a week if I’ve had enough coffee and sleep, when she made the comment that she doesn’t like her hair and wished it was like all her friends hair, which is in her words ‘smooth’.

Z has the most fantastic Afro, which I’ll admit at first I didn’t at first know the first thing about dealing with for obvious reasons, the main being I never had hair like that so why bother learning right? But over the years as her hair grew I realized it was getting more curly and thick and I would need more insight on how to care for her crowning glory to do it full justice, I started researching what the better quality products would be to use. I learned all about a wash n go and wet plopping and deep conditioning which to be honest were all very helpful for my hair as well since I also have curly hair, although not to the extent of Z’s 3c/4a curls. I learned not to use drug store brands that contain sulphates and other harmful chemicals that will further dry her hair out. I learned how to trim her hair myself to maintain it and get rid of dry, split ends on my own without spending a fortune on a hairdresser. I will admit though that I still cannot plait her hair, but I have learned twist outs and how to lay her edges so I’ll just take that as a win for now. One step at a time. 🤷🏻‍♀️

But when she was upset last night because her hair wasn’t ‘smooth’ like all her friends at school my heart fell into my gut. I can only be so much of a roll model for her in this area. I wear my hair as big, full and curly as possible, because I honestly feel the bigger the better, and I truly think natural hair is better. I’ve straightened my hair maybe once a year since finding out all this information about hair for Z. Little E wears his hair pretty close cut because he just has no interest in keeping a style and prefers it practically shaved, and even when he does grow it out, it’s not as curly as Z’s, it’s more of a thick bigger curl. Her dad maintains a bald head although they don’t see him often (as my regular readers know 3 visits when we went back at Christmas and before that it was February last year). So I guess my point with all these “examples ” is that she has no natural hair role models as far as her hair texture. I’ve shown her on places like instagram woman with beautiful hair like hers and how they wear it even bigger than hers. For reference, her fro averages between 6-10 inches but I don’t fluff it out on the bigger side often. She prefers to style it pushed back with a headband or with a few clips or two pigtail afropuffs. Which is for the best because those are the only ones I can pull off half decently.

Anyways this is a very roundabout way of saying I hurt for her. I want her to be proud of every part of her, but this is a way I can’t directly be a role model for her. Yes, I can wear my hair naturally and I do, but her hair is distinctively different, not only from mine, but from the streets of Kelowna and even where we were before and heck even in a Kenya because of the mix, and others notice. I think it’s fantastic and beautiful and many others do as well. We constantly receive compliments while out about how nice her hair is of which I reminded her last night. I told her that her hair is original and beautiful and she should never want to change who or how she is. I was detangling it and showed her how long it was while wet and stretched out and she was so impressed, since it reaches to her elbows. So after the bath, I did one long braid for her down her back and she was much happier and kept mentioning how long and smooth it looked. Albeit it only lasted about 15 minutes until it was completely dry and shrunk up to her neck but it made her happy in that moment.

I’m just wondering how to move forward from here. I’m WELL aware that my kids should have strong black role models in their life, but if there aren’t any around… I can’t just produce them out of thin air.

My in laws are not an option, her dad is out of the question. The black community in Kelowna is to be honest practically nonexistent (trust me, I’ve looked). But I know that it will be something they need to become the fullest version of themselves they can be.

I guess that’s the most frustrating aspect of this experience. Knowing I can be the best mom I can possibly be. I can make all the healthy lunches and arrange all the play dates and study up on all the hair care and do all the sex talks, to name a few examples, but facts are facts, and facts in my situation is that my kids are half black, there’s no denying that, and I would never want to. And that culture is not something I can provide them, and they desperately need it.

It makes me feel so inadequate.

Knowing no matter what, I’ll never be enough. And I can’t do it on my own.

And what’s worse it that the right people are not offering to help.

***update***

Just stopped at Walmart and saw this ironic and timely display showing Robert Munschs books on display

All had been picked through except the braids book (which Z owns). It’s a book about a girl with hair like Z’s and how she doesn’t like to have it braided since it takes a while and hurts. Etc. But anyways it’s literally just shows how no one in Kelowna has that culture in their life nor is trying to pass it on to future generations here and I’m on my own with my kids. 😑

*Z with morning bed head for reference*


-Dishwalla / Every Little Thing –

I Like Big Butts And I Can Not Lie You Other Brothers Can’t Deny That When A Girl Walks In With An Itty Bitty Waist And A Round Thing In Your Face You Get Sprung

So Little E had a friend over on Sunday and I heard him asking Alexa to play “I like Big Butts.” Now in my house, for the most part, I’m pretty open with my kids, and that includes music. I’d rather keep an open dialogue then have to deal with little secrets now that can turn into big things later. So they can basically listen to whatever music, unless the profanity is extreme. My kids aren’t allowed to swear because I’ve taught them a vast vocabulary and try to teach them a few things about swearing. First, if you don’t understand the meaning behind the word you shouldn’t be using it, and secondly it’s better to try to communicate what you’re trying to get across with more than just one word. Yes sometimes the curse word is the best you can come up with, and maybe when you’re older, it will be more suitable with your vocabulary to use. But for now, lets work on expanding our knowledge and finding more precise words to explain our feelings.

Anyways, back to big butts lol. When I heard the song come off while Little E’s friend was over I asked him to change it. He was fine with that. Later after supper I explained that I didn’t know if his friends parents would appreciate him hearing that kind of language at our house and that to remember we are trying to be role models in our life for others.

Then he asked what was so bad about the song. So I explained that the song talks about how men like big butts and it’s not a lie, other men can’t deny (or lie) that when a beautiful woman walks in with a beautiful body, or a nice figure and large bum, it gives them a hard penis or erection.

To which he was like ‘Oh yeah that happened to me at Superstore”

Surprise Mom!

And so we dove into the sex talk. I told him having an erection is perfectly normal and it’s a guys body’s way of preparing his penis for sex, although just because you get an erection, does not mean you must have sex. It just means you are attracted to that individual and now the blood is rushing to your penis, making it protrude from your body so it can more easily enter the vagina.

I explained how you would first find someone who you enjoy spending time with and trust and feel safe and happy as well as comfortable with, as sex is a very intimate (close) thing. And just because your penis is capable of getting an erection, doesn’t mean your mentally able to deal with the other elements that sex entails. You would want to build a relationship with a person before moving forward and having sex with anyone who gives you an erection. But, I told him, if you start a relationship with someone and feel uncomfortable, it’s ok to stop the relationship and just remain friends. You don’t have to have a physical boyfriend/girlfriend relationship with everyone. You will eventually choose one person that you feel the best and most special with. Then, once you’ve built that bond with the person you feel most happy with, and have dated for a while and felt safe and comfortable with, and they are happy with you, you might want to consider sex.

Now it’s important to know, sex is not just one thing. It’s not just when the penis goes into the vagina. It’s a whole situation. It’s intimacy. It’s kissing and hugging. It’s touching their bodies. It’s making each other feel good. Sex cannot be defined as something in one second, and can be different each time (yes I realize I went deep for a 8.5 year old, but I also told him this wouldn’t be our only talk on it, as it’s a fluid subject). Anyways, sex is about both people involved making each others bodies feel pleasure, and the most simple way of doing that is through the penis going in and out of the vagina , but the best way of doing it through listening and responding to what your partner wants, and responding to that. Kissing, touching, different positions (to which very awkward hand motions came out) etc. Sex is normally finished once both people have reached the most pleasure their bodies can. For men, it is when they ejaculate, which is when sperm comes out of their penis, creating the most pleasurable feeling throughout the body. I didn’t go into female orgasms at that time, because, well one step at a time lol.

Anyways, so far he was being an active participant in the conversation, which is why I went this far. When I talked about male ejaculation and sperm, we moved more into how babies are made, as he talked about how he knew what sperm was and how it was half of what joined with the egg to create the baby.

So I told him, the sperm go into the woman, and one of the sperm reaches the egg and they join together to multiply and grow and grow and grow inside the woman to create a baby. So that’s how sex can create a baby. Which I very skillfully and motherfully (not a word I know) linked back to why it was important to choose carefully who you have a relationship and then sex with, as that person could potentially be your parenting partner. Like you two could be a dad and mom together.

But then he was like “so every time you have sex you make a baby?” To which I wanted to be like YES so avoid it forever!!! lol. But I was honest and explained about condoms to protect from sicknesses you can get from sex. Then I touched a bit on a woman’s period. So if a woman didn’t have sex while her egg was ready, her period came and washed it away and prepared a new fresh one next month denoting the importance of timing.

Oh man, it was a big discussion. But Little E was involved and asking questions, understanding most of it. Of course you don’t fully understand something like sex and intimacy until you’ve experienced it for yourself, but to be more prepared will help the depth of his empiricism, at least those are my sentiments.

But in the end I told him I don’t want him judging a woman or potential partner solely on her body, as the song suggests. Yes, women have wonderful bodies and they can make you think of being with them in a sexual way, and they can give you an erection by just simply standing there and existing because we are beautifully made, but a woman is not just a body. We have thoughts and feelings and emotions and dreams and goals like men do. How would you feel if a girl only liked you because of your hair or nice smile, and not because your good at math or didn’t care that you liked hockey, or never wanted to discuss how your day was? You wouldn’t feel as comfortable and happy with her as you should. There is a girl out there who will make you smile every day and want to hear all about those things, not because she feels its part of her job, but because you genuinely interest her, and you make her happy, by just being you. That’s the kind of girl you should be dating and be in a relationship with to one day have sex. But remember, there is no rush, because you’re not ready to be a dad.

Since then there’s just been a few follow-up questions, like what does sexy mean, and can you only make a baby once, or every month? Both good questions, which I tried answering as simply as I could for him.

Because although he is only 8, since he understood and took it seriously, it was time. And I trust him. He made me proud. More proud than half the guys out prowling the night lately anyways.


-Old School Players / Baby Got Back-

It’s The End Of The World As We Know It, And I Feel Fine

When you sit back and think about it, we all had to come from somewhere. Someone somehow we are all connected. I know it’s not a thought we all consider on the daily, but logically, this earth didn’t just appear yesterday functioning at this level of consciousness and efficiency that we are at today. Which leads me to wonder, when did it start, and from where, which leads to the only logical consideration that no matter what you believe as far as a creation standpoint, it will start at some point. Lending to the argument that we all, weather we like it or not, weather we want it or not, we all started at the same point. Not us in our physical bodies as we stand today, but as the very least the creation of either our thought or our soul or whatever you may call it.

So, if we were all “created” or “started” at the same “time” or within the same breathe or choose the same moment to begin, or whatever you believe or whichever path your thoughts took long ago, it really makes no difference what journey your thoughts took, what matters is that in this moment, we are here together, and we, logically thinking and speaking, all began in the exact same moment.

Have we had the exact same experiences since that time? Of course not. This journey is just that. A journey. With each of us individually afforded our own choices and decision making skills. Throughout the infinite history, it has brought our bodies to this point in time, where we can acknowledge the grandeur of our past and move on, or rest in our souls accomplishments thus far. Has your body completed what it wanted to when it first set out? Were you part of the decision making process to decide grass was green or the earth would rotate a certain direction or maybe your thoughts took the journey to decide the sun would burn hot instead of freeze cold.

And now we’re here. What are your thoughts actively partaking in? Are you thinking universal as you might have once done? Or have you narrowed your mind to just think simply of your bodies day to day activity?

They say ” God” is the body, the thought and the mind…. a do your u hear what I hear type thing. So when you lay in bed at night, have you closed your thoughts down to hear only “you” over the years, decades, even possible lifetimes you have lived? Or do you put your body to rest, and then just breathe. And relax your own thinking to slow down and hear the thoughts of others. Or on the other hand, are the thoughts you project into the world hindering the progression of what weave made thus far? Or contributing?

Or, the most fearsome consideration yet, have we all become so worn down by what we’ve created, that we’ve given up and we are all ready to go back to our original form. A much simpler, more loving, even God like form. Once we reconcile our lives and our souls can rest, we make that choice to. Instead of coming back to this projected perceived world, we make our final choice to rest our soul for good. We remove our thoughts and we, as an individual are no more. No more thought. No more chances. Just done.

Chosen one person at a time, will leave this world with many broken souls who didn’t know they had the chance to choose. Not somewhere I’d like to be, but once my soul is done, not something I will have knowledge of either way..


-R.E.M/ Its The End Of The World As We Know It-