Adult Situations…with Adult Kids.

First of all, I Love the Shix out of my kids. Love’em. I probably spoiled them out of some Gen X guilt complex but only because I love them.

me and jabaris

Now, with that said…is this the crap my parents had to deal with from me? Entitlement. Misdirected Anger. Drastic Mood Swings. One minute the “I’m Adult” Speech and in the very next breath, “Mom, You’re Not Doing Enough For Me” BS. Who am I kidding? Yes! Yes, I was a Spoiled American Brat well into my “adulthood”. This is the Reaping of that which I Sowed.


I am a professional. I am an Educator with three certifications…and I basically don’t make enough money to buy a home in Florida.  At least, I thought I didn’t; however, I guess I can. Since my adult son and I had a heated “discussion” about our living situation, I looked up programs to help teachers buy houses. So, I guess I could thank him for spurring this new course of action…but he’s in his feelings. Mr. Adult told me by next summer he’s moving out. I feel a little bad but…it had to happen one day, right?


Back to the subject at hand, The Reaping. I now see that having adult kids is not as easy as one would think. I keep replaying conversations I had with my parents when I was their ‘adult’ kid in the house with a lot of opinions. How did they put up with me? Lots of Jesus Love and prayer. A couple of Long Island Ice Teas, maybe?


Did my parents ever just look at me and go, “What the Heck have I created? This kid talks more *&%Y^& than ever. When will this brat Grow up?” They waited a long time…probably still waiting. I’m like their eighteen year old daughter who is really forty something and kinda still needs financial help, sometimes.


But this comeuppance can be a bit frustrating. I know that what comes around goes around and this is what I am SO SURE I did to my parents. Heck! I was probably ten times worse, with me being a highly volatile, perpetually depressed, self destructive Cancer chick. I look back on myself and think, Damn! I was a hot mess. Heck…my kids are a walk in the park compared to me.


Ok. So, I can dig it. Deep Breath. Center My Thoughts on Happiness. Stretch.

It’s time to go talk to my kid. If he is ready.

Miss Piggy, Dolly Parton and Lil Ol’ Me.

On a lighter note, guess who just got back from Dollywood? This Gal! I traveled up to Pigeon Forge for a family trip and I must say…it was Awesome. Now, granted I  am not a regular on the group travel front but who says No to Dolly?


Before embarking on this journey, I had a thought. “Wouldn’t it be Super Awesome to get a photo of Miss Parton with Miss Piggy. There just HAD to be one, right? “Why Miss Piggy?”, one may ask. To that I’d reply, “Is that a real question?”

Dolly and Miss Piggy

Over the course of my recovery from excessive depression and streamlined social interaction, I developed an teensy obsession to own Miss Piggy’s Guide to Life. I’d always wanted a copy. That book was my prepubescent introduction to High Femme Glamour. I couldn’t get enough. I would walk to the library near my house and just finger through the pages. Alas, I’d never owned a personal copy and one day, she was no longer available.

Piggy Cry

To make a long story short, after a few months of procrastinating, I ordered Miss Piggy’s Guide to Life (First Edition) for about $3.00. From the time I lovingly grasped that package from the UPS guy’s hot little hands, Miss Piggy has been my guru. Yes, Honey! I take her advice on EVERYTHING.

Piggy Kiss

Dolly Parton and Miss Piggy are like twin sister, guardian angels. Big hair, Ample Cleavage and Spunk. Yes, it was safe to assume that I’d find them together. Not ever known to disappoint, I found them in Dolly’s Chasing Rainbows Museum.

Miss Piggy says, “Whenever you are really down, just sit in front of your mirror, and remind yourself of all your talents and accomplishments and successes.”

That’s some good advice. I mean, I’ve done it and it works. I’ve also given myself quite a few “Get it Together, Bitch” talks. If moi can’t compliment herself, why expect others to do so?

maya inspiration

Now, some folks may feel a little uneasy with my being a grown behind, African American, Urban Art Mama who takes life tips from an over the top, Drama Queen like Miss Piggy. To the naysayers, I say “Kiss My Grits.” Like Kermie says, “She makes me happy.” Dolly? Well, Dolly Parton made a song called “PMS”. Enough said. Not to mention that 9 to 5 is one of my All Time Favorite movies.


So, 2017 may just go down as The Year of The Glam Queen…at least for me. I’ve been all about “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” and pretty any movies with strong, female leads. I’ve been practicing makeup techniques and even picked up my birthday gift from Sephora this year. I’m growing into my fabulous self in every aspect. As Abraham would say, I am aligning with Source. My Source just so happens to have a Grand sense of humor.

Make it rain in the forest

I wouldn’t have it any other way.




Be Here Now… and Other Stuff.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. Always. Over  the years I’ve started way more novels than I’ve finished and writing this blog has so far been my magnum opus. In my heart burns the desire to be the next Octavia Butler or Alice Walker but so far, I’ve lacked focus. No discipline.


I was at an art event a few months ago, discussing my longing to write The Great American Novel with a fellow artist. She said that in today’s world, most people don’t have much of an attention span and that maybe writing a blog is the way to reach a wider audience. I thought to myself, “Well I already have a blog. It’s dusty and I haven’t tended to it in a while but…I think it’s still there.” So I went to check.


Apparently, I’d been in the middle of a depression spiral the last time I’d written. I wasn’t happy with the way I left my space. If those would’ve been my final words, I wouldn’t have been happy with them.

So, today I am writing a brief synopsis of my life journey since I eschewed Romantic Love in an effort to clarify, if only to myself, my theory of Life.


When I was about 28 or so, I got the book Be Here Now by Ram Dass while working in Little Five Points, Atlanta. Little Five Points was a spiritual hub and New Age practitioners of all kinds were drawn to it. I don’t remember exactly how the book came into my possession but I can tell you this…I’ve never read it. Seriously. I’ve meant to read it. I still have it somewhere but I’ve never really sat down and absorb the information inside. If I had, maybe so many of the things I’ve gone through could’ve been avoided. But, to what end? I like the way my life is unfolding. Crying over mistakes made negates all of the lessons I’ve learned along the way.


I’ve assimilated a spiritual practice that also serves as a practical mental health routine for me. Rooted in self love, it satisfies me. I am happier. In fact, my Happiness is the driving force behind this practice and it is rooted in the words “BE HERE NOW”. Like I said, I haven’t read the book. These are just words that I use to explain living my life in The Present. Learning to Allow my Life to unfold by the moment has been freeing. Appreciating the amorphous principles of Love, Happiness, Joy and Fulfillment  as the guiding forces of my life path has led me to Peace within.

I’ve also learned that there is no reason to be a starving artist. As a single mom, teacher and creative being, it is my duty to not only produce and manifest, it is my joy. I used to think material desire was a dirty thing. The desire to be wealthy is not an evil or negative force. To live well and in comfort is beautiful and manifestation incarnate. I’ve learned that in my spiritual practice it is good to have material wealth. I deserve all Good Things. There is Beauty in this.

So, I’m a little rusty and I may have deviated from my original point but…c’est la vie.  Writing is weighty stuff. I’ll be back in the habit soon. Meanwhile, I will continue to do my best to live in the moment. To Be Here Now.

This is where Happiness lives.