I always thought motherhood would start making sense once my oldest hit seventeen, but here I am still winging it and hoping nobody notices. Raising three Black boys has taught me more about myself than any job, relationship, or life lesson ever could. I am learning in real time, growing through every mistake, and choosing to rebuild every time life knocks me flat. This is my honest look at parenting while healing, surviving, and trying to shape good men in a world that does not always protect them.
From Barbershop Tears to Digital Fears: A Mom’s Guide to Protecting Her Teen Online
Whew, parenting is hard but looking at my soon to be 16 year old middle child sit in the barber chair to get his matted mop cut down to a fresh low cut…a start over so to speak, I couldn’t help but feel all the emotions. Now, don’t get me wrong, he is not happy... Continue Reading →
Soft Doesn’t Mean Weak: Thank God for Growth
I was having a conversation with my niece and sister yesterday when my niece boldly told my sister that she had “gotten soft.” I laughed because I, too, have been accused of going soft in my parenting journey. My oldest son once told me that I was way tougher on him as the firstborn than... Continue Reading →
Seeds, Seasons, and Letting Go: Lessons From My Fall Garden
Today marks the first day of Fall, and I must say there are some things I am eager to shed and release forever. The past couple of months have been challenging (as if it’s ever not challenging over here), with repeated cycles of inconsistency showing up in personal relationships, parenting, mental health — pretty much... Continue Reading →
