Corridors

I walked down a really long corridor today, leaving a very important appointment. The corridor was a long bridge and walkway of glass, and I could see out both sides into the streets. When I got to the halfway point, I turned and looked back. I thought about where I'd been and cherished and blessed the moment I'd just had. I then turned and looked through the glass towards the streets. I watched as people came and went, and I thought about all of the precious moments that had come and gone in my lifetime. After a deep breath, I looked ahead. The path down the corridor looked long. I began to walk, and as I did so, I allowed a meditative state to overcome me. The path spoke to me. It whispered spiritual secrets into my ear. The more steps I took, the more understanding I gained. When I reached the end of the corridor, it felt as if I'd been walking for years--and in some spiritual sense, I KNEW that I had been. I didn't dare look back. That moment had passed, and so had the walk. Now here I sit--typing. Understanding more than I did before. Knowing that I dare not be the same as before. Knowing...

Nikki's Cottage

Hey all! Just checking in to say that I'm here. I've got a lot going on, but who doesn't, right? I'm reading this really thrilling book called Lucy's Cottage. It's kinda eerie, and totally not something I'd usually read. I have a wonderful collection of books, and some I've never taken the time to partake of. I'd been reading lots of spiritual stuff (an still am) but decided that I needed to spice it up with a good novel (which I'm doing).

Question (if there's anybody who's still checking out this blog that I rarely update): What book are you currently reading?

Question: What are you guys up to?

Question: Do you have any great plans for summer vacations?

Gotta run. I've got two back-to-back appointments. I'll TRY to check back and see if anyone has left a comment.

I Luvs Youz All!

Macy's

Every free moment I have (which is usually at night, if I'm not too pooped) I've been engulfed in one of my favorite writer's books: Home with God: In a Life That Never Ends by Neale Donald Walsch. I've had the book about a month, and I am now on my 3rd reading of it. If you aren't familiar with this author, he has an entire series of books, which started with his first: Conversations with God: An Uncommon Dialogue. I've been reading his work since 1996, he's an inspiration to me.

Anywho, the other day I was at the mall and I watched as this mother of two had an emotional conversation over her cellphone. She came into the food court with her two children in tow (both under the age of seven). My eavesdropping led me to find out that some guy had told some untruths about her. It appeared that she was on the phone with another friend who was telling her what this "Tom dude" had been saying about something she'd done. She seemed floored and hurt. As she spent at least 15 minutes discombobulated and trying to convince the other person that she hadn't done "such a thing," her daughter tried to control and handle her younger sibling (remember, they're under the age of seven). The young girl did as best she could as her mother unraveled at the seams. After about 15 minutes, she did get off the phone and leave the food court, but I was to bump into her again in Macy's. Once again she was on the phone with a friend (or enemy, cause sometimes what seems to be a friend is actually an enemy) trying to explain how shaken up she was over this lie. As she conversed, once again, her daughter tried to keep the younger sibling and herself together. Finally the mother says into the phone with a trembling voice, "I'm so upset that I'm shaking." That's when my heart sank into my belly. I couldn't take my eyes off of her as she wandered in circles, oblivious to those of us who were watching. She was shaking so badly and tears were forming. **Oh my God, I'm in tears in this moment as I'm retelling it.** I wanted to run to her. I wanted to tell her to hang up the phone. I wanted her to notice her beautiful children. I wanted her to notice her OWN beauty. I wanted her to see me. I wanted her to just plain SEE. It was obvious by the Create-A-Bears her children were carrying that she'd brought them to the mall for some fun and shopping. It appeared that she'd wanted to spend quality time with them. She didn't look like a stay-at-home mom (whatever that looks like). It appeared that she'd taken the day off from work to be with those beautiful kids. I wanted to shake her out of her trance. I wanted her to enjoy that precious time that'd she'd carved out for them. I wanted her to see that she was standing in the middle of the room, looking lost, pacing in a circle over some guy who was taking precious time away from her kids. I wanted to yell

Fuck Him!!!!

You don't need this Shit!

In the end, I didn't say anything--the old Nikki would have approached her. It wasn't meant for me to say anything. God had given me the opportunity, once again, to see one of the reasons why I'm here on earth. And this time, I couldn't deny the tug...the knowing. I've been on a long internal journey the last two months. And I'm trying to remain calm and centered as I listen to my soul's specific instructions. These instructions scare me, but the more I follow them, the easier the road gets and the more fun I'm having.

That lady has no idea how her episode in Macy's has helped me--sometimes God's answers and miracles come in strange packaging.

I Gotta Run

Sometimes I go through spells where I just have to run. Walking won't do. Jogging won't help. I need a good run. A hard sweat. A pounding heartbeat. And while I'm running, I need to have some good R&B music vibrating my eardrums to the point of damaging them--give me Keith Sweat, Guy, Jodeci, New Edition, R.Kelly, BBD, Mint Condition, Aaron Hall, Jaheim, Silk, H Town (Kockin' Da Boots, baby, remember that song?) .... And maybe a little Jay-Z. And not new school Jay-Z, I'm talking his first album, true hardcore hip-hop. Just give me the music. And I'm off. Off to my running thoughts. My dreams. When I'm running it's a meditation. I see clearly and think clearly. I know who I am, what I should be doing, and what I'm capable of. I'm on my stationary treadmill...so I set my eyes on a fixed point...that point usually starts to resemble something...a few lint spots on the couch start to look like a smile. I stay fixed on that point. My arms cutting through the air and sending a smooth breeze past me. My neck is strong, my legs solid. I'm in the stride. I just have to run. Sometimes I look up and two hours have passed--just in the zone. When it's all over, I'm rejuvenated (like I was when this spurt happened on Sunday night) or I'm overly tired, kinda sick, and sore all over (like what happened last night). But the end feeling isn't what matters. I was running. And in the moment, nothing was as exhilarating.

Up and Going?

Um, a sista's computer was down for 2 weeks. After I got it out of the shop, I didn't have any desire to get on it. Now that a small bit of that desire has returned, I have been inundated with emails. I had hundreds of emails. And to top it off, lots of them were personal emails from you guys. And what does that tell me? You all were holdin' a sista' down. And the least I could do was get on the friggin' computer and give my peoples a shout out!

Hey Y'all!

I don't think I'll ever catch up on all of the emails you all sent. Just know that I love every one of you.

Congrats to my cousin Keyla on the birth of her first-born (Kiersten was one day early from sharing Isom's birthday!)

Speaking of Isom, he turned one last week.

Happy Birthday Sir Isom!

Happy Belated 40th Birthday to my cousin Subrina. She's one of my eldest first cousins on my mom's side.

Happy Belated Birthday Maria!

That's it for now. I'm about to go and look at Keyla's blog to see if she's had time in her "new mommy" schedule to post pics of Kiersten.

Last tidbit:

Less than 30 days to Thembi & Preston's wedding. I received my dress the other day, it's beautiful! If anyone knows of any upcoming balls to which I could wear this amazing gown again, let a sista know. I'll also need a date (maybe Paul might come up and escort a lonely sista! hint, hint! Y'all know he's my dream guy.). Man, this gown is so gorgeous that I've got to wear it a FEW more times.

Spring 2006

Isom and I have been spending a lot of time enjoying springtime. Last week I pulled out the camera and took some shots of the our wonderful findings around the yard. I don't know about him, but I was inspired by this tree that we have in the front yard that blossoms with beautiful white and pink flowers every year. A few years ago, when I was writing my first novel and the desk was facing out towards that tree, I caught a glimpse of these teenage girls (probably about 12 or 13). I was amazed as they stopped and took notice of the tree and its blossoms. They adored the tree with ooohs and ahhhs. The young women didn't know I was watching; so of course they didn't know all the blossoming possibilities that I saw in them--the fact that they noticed such simple beauty gave me hope. And I wrote the rest of my novel with that brilliant moment in mind.

Last spring we were blessed to have a bird's nest in the backyard. Dad and I marveled at watching the mother come to the nest with worms for her babies. And I was so moved as I watched the baby birdies open wide for her to provide them with nourishment--I was pregnant at the time, watching this new mom made my day.

This year we have a nest in the front in that beautiful tree that those young teenagers loved. Everyday I watch as Mrs. Birdie sits faithfully on her eggs, instinctively knowing that she must nurture and protect them. Sometimes I take Isom in my arms, walk up to the nest, and address Mrs. Birdie: "Look, Mrs. Birdie!" I say as I point to Isom. "I have one just like you." And I swear it seems as if she knows what I'm saying. She looks me dead in the eyes and seems calm and assured that I'm not there to do her or her eggs any harm--just two mothers sharing a moment. I can't wait for her babies to hatch. I'm looking forward to watching her feed and tend to them.

Anywho, I've been missing you guys. Having the computer in the basement has it's problems, there are way too many things for Isom to get into; so I can't take my eyes off of him long enough to type. My old writing space was babyproofed and Isom could go about without my watching him so closely. Anywho, I do find time to write at night, but I try to reserve that for editing my novel and doing other creative things. But today I was just itching to communicate with you all and so I put Isom down for a nap, which I knew wouldn't last long. He's crying now and I need to go and get him.

I love you guys. And I have received so many powerful emails and phonecalls from many of you. You guys are my inspiration. AP, there aren't enough words or tears to express my gratitude to and for you. Erica, you are an amazing woman, and I think of you often as I navigate muddy waters, trying to make it to an unknown destination. Your progress reminds me that I will arrive. Soon.

Looking for something to put in his mouth!

Everything goes into the mouth!

Fallen Blossoms

Ahh, Mrs. Birdie!

My Gratitude & The Walker

I just want to say Thank You to three of my earthbound angels: Crystal, LuCiana & Kirk. You guys were my aid and my strength. You made this week's faith-journey bearable. It was a profound experience that stills lingers with me today. With the many forms of negativity that come at us and through us, it is even more faith-affirming to know that I've been given wonderful earth guides to help me navigate my journey. I am blessed and I am filled to an extent that surpasses words.

Last tidbit: Isom is in his walker. He was upset that I was typing and cried for me to take him out. He is now limp and asleep, hanging off of the side of the walker. Every couple of seconds his head bobs, he looks around to let out a short cry, and then falls to sleep again. Umph, umph, umph. Let me go place him in his crib for his morning nap.

FAITH

For those who don't fully understand me, let me be clear:

I try to live my life by FAITH.

I understand all of life's physical and visual demands. I understand what the stock market, government, television, gas prices, history, etc. try to tell me. I understand that my way of living is contrary to the bondage of society.

I only try to live my life by FAITH.

I know many think that I should get a job or yadda, yadda, yadda...

I only try to live my life by FAITH.

My only concern is what my God and my heart tell me to do, and each day I listen for those instructions, even if they appear to seem strange (many times spirit has whispered to me to quit a job); amazing things grow from God's strange requests on us.

I don't think that money or financial power determine the outcome of our lives or how we should live. In my belief, only GOD determines that.

My family is far from rich, but through God we've accomplished lots of things that it APPEARS only rich folks should accomplish. And what does that tell me--it ain't about money or power. It's about God and our faith that he moves mountains (and our belief in the amazing things that Jesus said we are capable of).

I only try to live my life by FAITH.

I believe my life is meant to be a testament to others who are looking for ANOTHER way to live. I try to speak to those who are ready to live that way.

I know lots of you don't believe in faith to the extent that I do (example: I believe that FAITH can pay bills and put food on the table). And it's okay, we're all meant to live different experiences. My blog is about FAITH and the endless possibilities it brings. I welcome those who are ready and willing to try to live by this blind FAITH.

If I didn't live by FAITH, I would not be the person you guys know today. I would not have accomplished all that I have. My life is a testament that money only matters if you don't have FAITH. When my FAITH is in tack, I accomplish more with $0 than I do with thousands (trust me, this has really happened for me.).

So please, understand that I'm not trying to be "normal." I'm trying to live by FAITH, and in today's times, that is far from the norm.

One last tidbit:

It's funny to me how lots of folks claim to be of religions that are FAITH-based but are afraid to live by faith, and allow money (or the lack of it) dictate who or what they can be.

A Special Email

Today I received the following email from a dear friend of mine. I love when I am blessed with the opportunity to see someone in the middle of a grand transformation; it's awe-inspiring. It's motivates me to want to be my best self. I hope you take as much delight in it as I did.

"Thanks to you (as always!) I really reflected on life and how I want to live it from here on out...I want to be a better person...I'm a good person, but I know I can be better. I'm going to start praying for people that make me angry...people that are ignorant... (I will have to call you to vent, though, of course...LOL) but I'm no longer going to harbor ill feelings till my adrenaline stops pumping...I'm going to let it go. That email that I passed onto you was a lot of it too. I'm holding myself and others, back from enjoying life to the fullest. It's just not right. Going to be a difficult change, but I know that I've now surrounded myself with people that TRULY care...not fly-by-night friends...and they can help me through the transformation. Won't you join me???LOL That last part was a "Mr. Rogers" type thing...I added it for shock value...hope you liked...LMAO

I love you guys so much...I'm so glad to always have you within reach of a phone call, even if it is talking to your VM...lol I know you care and that's what matters, and I hope you know the same."

Hi Anonymous!

Today I am responding to an anonymous poster who left me a comment yesterday. And I just want to say that all of you are in my thoughts.

Dear Anonymous,

I am a single, full-time mom of an 11 month old. This may sound vague, but, for a living, I live. I step out on faith each day and try to cease the small and big opportunities that come my way, and they are always present. Some time ago my therapist pointed out that my old anxieties about providing for myself and my son weren't real because we have more than we need: we already have LOTS of fresh, homecooked meals, a WONDERFUL roof over our heads, and IMMACULATE clothes on our backs (and lots of activities, road trips, toys, family & friends). And ya' know what, all of this transpired by faith. Simple. I promised myself and my son that I'd take his first year off to nurture our relationship (Being a single mom, it really means a lot that I do this. I want us to have an unbreakable bond). After his first birthday, I will follow whatever direction spirit leads me--I have always lived my life this way. And I'm too ignorant to try any other stressful ways of living--my amazing dad nurtured this in me. Throughout my life my dad has always said, "A job only ties you down." Hmph! Sometimes I don't give my dad's genius enough credit.

As far as balancing and juggling, I try to remember that we can't and WON'T accomplish everything in this lifetime. It's best to pick and choose the things that matter most to us. Be careful of how you spend your time. You don't have to bake cookies for every event, you don't have to have perfect hair and nails, you don't have to have your kids in 5 million different activities... Just do the things that best serve you and your family. And don't let anyone make you feel bad just because you decide to opt out of a doing some things. My friends and family know me well; at any given moment I will up and change my mind about a decision I've made. If I feel as if my schedule is too packed, I cancel on some stuff. And in the first place, I don't really like busy schedules, so it's rare that I overbook. I try to take life at a slow and steady pace so that I can enjoy it all. But that's me. And that way of living might bore the next person.

My last tidbit: Examine the word obligation and what it means to you. I'm a spiritual being, and I feel that if there are any obligations they are only to my God and my soul. I allow them to lead the way.

Thanks for stopping by my blog and writing me.

Miss Nikki Ann

I Just Have To Say This:

People, you must spend time with your kids!
Why?
What do you mean, why?
It's the only way to make this world a better place.
Just turn on the news and see these psychotic children and adults doing inhumane things,
and ask yourself:
How much time, effort, and energy did their parents/anybody who's willing to care put into them?
Side note:
Yes, there are some folks who seem to have had perfectly good upbringings and still turn out to be psycho. I'm still meditating on that one. And I think I've found some answers to that one too, but that's another story.
And for those of you spending time with your children...
Job well done!
For those wanting to spend more time...
Do it!
For those who don't give a damn...
Then you, too, probably suffer from psychosis. Go seek help.
SERIOUSLY!
A thought:
Work to make enough to provide, but don't work to where your children are neglected or taken care of by someone else.
Problem:
We Americans are always so busy striving for the NEXT level of income that we don't realize that we don't need MORE! Generally speaking, most of us have probably been blessed with more than our parents could have ever dreamed of. Stop believing the lie that you need more. More is fine if your children are taken care of spiritually, mentally, and physically.
One way to find more time for your kids:
Decide to quit that part-time job that you work just to be able to buy more stuff, and use that time with your kids.
Again:
There's NOTHING wrong with material goods. The problem is when you aspire to them and it interferes with spending quality time with your kids.
People, you must spend time with your kids!
Households with double incomes:
More than likely, you ain't got no reason not to spend time with them babies!
Households with one parent and one small income:
That's another story, and we ain't even got enough time, but, try to find really nurturing folks to help in the caring of your children. And despite how much your parents get on your nerves, that may mean living with them (it's a blessing to have parents who are open to that!).
Fact:
There is a trend in adult MARRIED children moving back home to their parents' so that the financial burden isn't there and so that there's a bigger family unit to help nurture the children.
Fact (for my black folks):
These ain't just po' black married couples doing this, white folks is doing it too.
What that tells me:
I believe that some of us are now realizing that family is more important than any material good. That if our world is in chaos, all the money in the world won't make us happy. That the way to ending this chaos is to find more creative ways to raise and nurture our children.
Fact:
Some cultures are taken aback by the American family unit and how it consists of only two parents and the children. They wonder how we financially and spiritually make it with so many demands being placed on two people without family and community support.
Now:
It's late, I'm tired, and I need to rest so that I can have the needed energy to nurture my child come tomorrow morning.
Fact:
Yes, I could be working a full-time job and sending Isom to daycare.
Fact:
Daycare would cost me so much that it almost wouldn't be worth it to work.
Other Fact:
Don't think I'm a fool, a sista will generate cash, she's just faithful that she will find something that fits into she and Isom's life.
Fact:
I'm faithful that all of this time and energy will help to shape a better Isom, Nikki and World.
I AM FAITHFUL
Added tidbit:
All of these words on this page are things that I, too, try to adhere to. I take many doses of my own medicine everyday.

Happy Easter!

And so today is Resurrection Sunday. Today Isom and I honored Jesus by rising at 5:30 a.m. No, we didn't go to the 6 a.m. Sunrise Service. Instead we went to Elizabeth Park at 6:30 a.m. and took in God's wonderful sites. The park has two sides; Isom rode through the first side in his new push buggy (part of his Easter gift) as I marveled at the ducks and informed him: "See, Isom, now that's God!" After I'd stepped into some doggie poop, we placed the buggy back into the car and drove to the other side of the park. There we marveled at the Hartford skyline. I then placed him on my shoulders and did two laps around the track as he lay his head on the top of mine and took a nap. Later we attended 11 a.m. service, Reverend Dion preached a wonderful sermon. After church we visited some folks and then headed home to be with family. Isom paid no attention to the beautiful, if I might say so myself, Easter basket I'd made for him. And when he went to find his money-filled, plastic Easter bunny egg for his mini-egg hunt, he was more excited about his grandfather's chive plant that the egg was hidden in. I am happy to say that the money will go to pay for his summer swimming class. I hope you all had a wonderful Easter/Holy Week/Passover...

To view pictures of Isom's first Easter click here: http://photos.yahoo.com/nikkifulse and then choose the Isom's First Easter album.

Isom's Drinking Habit

My people, my people, my people! This baby is off da hook! Do you hear me? He won't sit still, he won't play by himself, he's climbing 12 flights of stairs, and now, I'm wondering if he's got a drinking habit. I'm begging y'all to call Social Services on me, it's a perfect way for me to get rid of Mr. Bizzy.

Hmmm, I'd been looking for my stash. Where you been all my life, baby?


No, it cain't be empty. And now I'm caught.


Oh, here are my cans. Ms. I'm-Always-Tired ain't even noticing. Perfect timing. And why is she always tired? I sleep through the night now. Pathetic.


Come on can! I ain't got all day. Gym class is in two hours.


Man, I'm caught. Wow! look at that angry woman. Black womens knows they can yell! I think I'll be single forever. Marriage!? Hmph! What is Uncle Peanut thinking!


Oh, now she wants to be friendly, just when I was about to call DSS.


Man, I loves dis tired old hag. Gimme my sugah, girl.


Well, this old hag has got to go. You can go to my photo album to view more pictures from this collection. Just click on the Isom's Drinkig Habit album, and choose the speed at which you'd like to view the album. These pictures are hot off the press and were taken just minutes ago after I REALLY did catch him messing with Peanut's beer.



http://photos.yahoo.com/nikkifulse

In That Order

Got up.

It was later than usual, so I didn't pump bresatmilk as I usually do (stocking up for wedding events)

Got Isom.

Breastfed Isom.

Got dressed.

Tried to eat breakfast as Isom, in his highchair, fussed at me.

As I ate, tried to get Isom to eat his oatmeal.

Got tired of being fussed at and took him out of his chair.

Breastfed Isom as I tried to eat, which I never do because breastfeeding kills my appetite.

Lost appetite and threw food out.

Got Isom dressed and combed his hair, which he hates.

Gathered Isom's things for our day out with mom.

Got into the car with mom and Isom.

Went by the Dixon's.

Went to grocery store with Isom and Mom and tried to be enthusiastic as folks coddled and cooed at Isom (I love that he gets attention from his favorite folks at our favorite stores--people who knew him while he was in my belly-- it's just that it turns a quick trip to the store into a long one).

Went back home to drop off groceries.

Drove around the corner to see what Mr. & Mrs. Allison had for sale at their garage sale.

Was hoping to find a TV stand for Isom's new television.

Saw my cousin, Gia, her husband, Wallace, my Aunt Theldra, and my cousin, Tony.

We took a walkthrough of the Allison's house, which is across the street from Aunt Theldra's house, as Aunt Theldra watched over Isom who was asleep in the car.

Left the Allison's and chatted with my family in front of Aunt Theldra's house. Aunt Theldra voiced her anger over the fact that she wasn't invited out last night when we all took Peanut out for drinks. Now she's threatened that she'll be doing something even grander for him and she won't be including us (me, Gia, Tony, nor Wallace).

Isom woke up, so I changed him before we drove off.

Went to East West Bridal to look for a dress for mom.

Breastfed Isom.

Went to another dress shop.

Went by the Dixon's again.

Tried to contain my anxiety as Isom fussed and yelled at me for having him in the car for too long.

Went to Burger King.

Gave Isom some bread and the pickle off of my sandwich.

Sat in the car and ate as mom went back to the Allison's to look for a TV stand.

Came home and breastfed Isom.

Changed Isom.

Noticed that he still had pickled lodged in his cheeks--but I did nothing about it.

Went to retrieve a container that I'd left in the car.

It started raining on me.

While outside, decided to shake the crumbs out of Isom's car seat.

Came inside.

Farted around for a few minutes.

Changed Isom's poop.

Breatfed Isom, AGAIN, as we watched Lil' Kim: Countdown to Lockdown on TIVO.

Noticed that Isom still had pickle lodged in his cheek.

Chatted with Isom and showered him with kisses as he ate my face.

Tried to play with Isom some more as he tried to ignore me (you know that blank stare that babies do when they're uninterested).

Walked Isom down the hall and snuggled in his neck as he patted me on the head (as if to say, It's okay, girl.).

Walked Isom into the bathroom to watch Annie (what Isom calls my mother) clean with her new cleaning toy (mom is obsessed with cleaning, she's now cleaning the basement as I'm typing).

Enjoyed the fresh scent of Tilex, bleach and Fantastic--nostalgia.

Walked Isom into his room and placed him in his crib.

Patted him on the back and told him to take a nap.

Walked downstairs and turned on the computer.

Went to AP's blog and read her brilliant, new installment.

Decided to type up a post.

Typing now.

Wondering what to do next...

I think I'll go and take a shower.

Wondering if Isom still has the pickle lodged in his cheek.

Off to gather my things for the shower.

My day started at 6:45 am, which was a late start for me, and it is now 3:30 pm. Phew! Still a few hours until Isom's bedtime at 7:00 pm, and then I can work on my novel, or put my black behind ta' sleep! I think the latter.

What Spring Looks Like In Connecticut

It's 32 degrees outside. It's Spring, it's snowing, and it's wet. A beautiful, bone-chilling mess. Can't wait to drive Isom to gym class in this nasty weather. Last week it was in the 60s and Isom and I were frolicking in the grass under the hot sun--I wore a tank top. And then today... Welcome to New England.

Pregnancy Breakfast Anniversary

It was a year ago in March that my cousin, Tony, made me my first French toast breakfast. Here are the pictures from our one year anniversary. But this time I was able to have mimosa and Isom was out of my belly (Oh, and I didn't have to deal with being ill!).

The Time Has Come

I am going to try to post as often as I can, but I am now fervently and feverishly editing my novel (it's after midnight, and I'm still typing away). With the responsibilities of motherhood and all the other activities that comsume my time, I must use all of my extra minutes to work towards my goal of finishing this editing process. I believe that I would be at a loss if I posted here everyday at the cost of not working on my novel--as I am in faith that this writing endeavor shall soon pay my bills. Hey Crystal! "Let that be the reason that I get this thing done." And plus, when I do, I owe you a trip to Rio! Girl, I can't wait. We ain't got nothin' but faith and patience in God's great plan for me.

I love y'all and I'll send my regular emails when I've added a new post. This would be a great time to subscribe to the blog so that when I do make a post and I don't have time to send the email update, you'll automatically get the post to your email box.

Ang, your kind ear played a big role in my decision to slow down and focus on what I need to do (along with my girls at the book club meeting asking when they can read my book--imagine that!). You and I shared one of the most intimate journeys together (Ang and I met online. We were both pregnant, single, and due two weeks apart.). If it weren't for you picking your phone up at 8 o'clock this morning, my anxiety attack might have consumed and defeated me. You were my angel. And for that, you deserve your own rubber duckies, damnit! LOL!

Tasha, thanks for the chat! The things you told me about the seminar were motiviating.

Kessa, you know you crazy, right?

LuCiana, I'm looking forward to our day at the spa.

Tunisia, book club was great. You were an amazing hostess.

Melissa, it was good seeing you at Ria's.

Deb, I miss you guys!

Preston, um, how long is it gonna take you to have your nephew's horse painting framed? You bum! I'm starring at it right now, propped up against some door in the basement. Sad, sad, sad.

Thembi, um, how do you deal with that bum?

Gia, hey Cuz!

Keyla, keep baking that baby!

Paul, do you even read this? MEN!!!!!

Kirk, do you even read this? MEN!!!!!

Subrina, can't wait to see ya'!

Erica, Luz-Maria-Nana-Nina, love ya!

AP, all fears aside, let's do this...


Dear God,

My faith is the only working vehicle that I own. May this novel be the gateway to many great things for me.

Amen!

April Fool's Day

There are several explanations for the origin of April Fools' Day, but here is the most plausible one. April 1st was once New Year's Day in France. In 1582, Pope Gregory declared the adoption of his Gregorian calendar to replace the Julian calendar and New Year's Day was officially changed to January 1st. It took awhile for everyone in France to hear the news of this major change and others obstinately refused to accept the new calendar, so a lot of people continued to celebrate New Year's Day on the first of April – earning them the name April fools. The April fools were subjected to ridicule and practical jokes and the tradition was born. The butts of these pranks were first called poisson d'avril or April fish because a young naive fish is easily caught. A common practice was to hook a paper fish on the back of someone as a joke. This evolved over time and a custom of prank-playing continues on the first day of April.

--Taken from Dictionary.com.

Peanut & Nikki Ann

Vivacious

Precarious

When I walked upstairs and saw that teething Bizzy Bee was asleep, I jumped for joy. This is the most peaceful 2 minutes I've had in days. Woo-hoo! This situation with the baby is precarious; so I must make haste. Who knows when the Bee will stir from his light slumber to find that his gums are still aching.

I've been so busy with the Bee that I missed a bill payment (first time in my life!). So I'm sitting here organizing my life a little. Do indulge yourself with a view of my New Artist Space, which has temporarily become my finance center.
Now I have it all squared away, and I paid that $18 bucks that was a few days overdue. I'm so paranoid about my bill paying that I have an elaborate system setup so that I don't forget to pay anyone. For some reason that system failed--but having sustained me for maybe 10 years or more with only one failure ain't such a bad record. I phoned the creditor about my late payment to inquire if I'd incurred a late fee. The customer service representative seemed taken aback. She said, "Yes, it was due on the 24th, but I don't see anything here stating that there's a fee." I guess when folks tend to pay bills weeks to months late, four days seems like a insignificant quiver in her collection day.

Anywho, my question to y'all is, why ain't nobody tell me my payment was due? I post the link to my calendar that has all my bill due dates. Y'all should be on my back about my bills! Actually, now that I think about it, I haven't fully updated my calendar; it's missing the bill due dates. My bad.

That's it for now. Bizzy is stirring, again. What is youz guys up to?

A Lift

Crystal, thanks for holding a sister down yesterday. Whether you knew it or not, I really was in need of that ride to Springfield; that laugh at the little boy going into the liquor store by himself; that nip of mango rum; that chocolate dipped ice cream; and that childish chatter Willie Webb Jr. entertained us with--except for how he kindly kicked me out the car so that he could listen to his Ray Charles CD. It made for a refreshing evening, which led to a restful night.

There Is A Season: Turn, Turn, Turn

Busy, busy, busy. I'm busy, mom's busy, Peanut's (Preston) busy, Bizzy's busy, and even my dad seems to be trying to get busy. Things to do. Lots of things to do. And you know what? I hate change. I haven't been posting because I've been relocated. My Artist Space is now located in the basement where my brother and my huge doll collection reside; all of my books are shelved down here, so that's an added plus--up until moving down here I didn't realize how many I own. Anywho, mom and I have been preparing for Peanut's post-wedding departure. We thought moving the desk to the basement would be a great idea. We mapped out every detail (where all the cords and cable attachments need to go; how to break down the desk; which parts of the desk could be done away with...). But we didn't foresee the problem we'd have with the internet cable cord, which meant I was offline for days, which caused the lapse in my posting, which caused me to throw a tantrum like a baby, to which my mother responded: Stop whining like a baby. Nikki, I've had enough. I'm not discussing it with you any longer. Shame, shame, shame. But Peanut and mom pitied me, and made a way out of no way. I'm back! I'm just having some trouble adjusting to the change in location; it takes a little more effort to come downstairs, but I'm working on it.

Rolling In The Grass

I spent some time outside with Sir today. The sun was blazing, and it made our 48 degree weather feel like 55/60, which is warm to us Northerners. At first I thought we'd take a little stroll around the backyard, but he had other ideas. There's something about grass that makes him uncontrollable; as soon as he sees the stuff, he's pushing to get out of my arms--and he's a very strong baby (even his doctor says so). So today I didn't try to fight him. I touched the ground to make sure it was dry, and then I released Mr. Bizzy Bee.

First, he inspected the semi-dead, wintry grass. After what seemed to be his version of analyzing-a-thing, he took a small handful and tasted some. I'm usually upset by his taste tests, but this time I was too busy looking down to see if any mystery stuff was in the grass; by this time, I, too, was on my hands and knees.

I watched Bizzy for a minute, realizing that my recent theory about not using the word no was true. Bizzy quenched his desire to taste the grass, but then further inspected it without needing to nibble on it. I believe that had I challenged him by yelling no, it would have prompted him to stuff a lot more in his mouth. I'm trying to reserve the word no for emergencies: No! A car is coming. I've noticed that Isom laughs at no, but when I say specifically what I need from him (Please do not touch that hot fire.), he tends listen. Mom caught on to this no theory early, and she's practicing telling him exactly what she needs him to do. And today my dad finally got the message. After yelling no over and over without getting a response from Bizzy, he firmly stated, "Isom, get down or you'll hurt yourself." And it only took Bizzy a nanosecond to do as he was told. Dad then turned to me and said, "I didn't believe it, but now I see what you're saying."

Anywho. Bizzy and I crawled around on all fours exploring the backyard for an hour. He tasted dirt, sticks, and God only knows what else. He crawled from one end of the earth to the other. I was even pressured into allowing him to drag me across hard pavement on my 30-year-old knees. At one point, we stopped and took in the fresh air and the serene quietude; the sun warmed our backs and we luxuriated in our freedom. I didn't need any FREEDOM steps, any words, any fussing, any self-help books, any food, any water, any cookies... I only needed the moment, my sweet friend, Bizzy, and our simple freedom.

By the time we went inside, we had dirt and grass all over us, and I spent more time than I wanted trying to pull all of the grass out of his coiled 'fro. We looked like two little Pig Pens. And it felt good.

Just for a moment, be a child.

If not, how else can you relate to one?

Spare Time

I have about two minutes to spare before Isom realizes that I've left the kitchen. That little boy is not into food, but he loves smoothies--I made him and my mom fresh strawberry, banana and mango smoothies. He had one and half sippy cups full, but I can only get him to eat about a tablespoon full of real food.

Anywho, my time is up. Just wanted to do a little post to let you guys know what I'm up to.

What are you all doing?

I'm Just Gettin' Warmed Up

I'm doing some web surfing and blog reading. I visited AP's blog and read her latest installment: We Live Not In Vain. Can I say amazing? Reading her piece led me to think about the Harlem Renaissance and all of the talent that came from that era of black genius--AP's got a gift!. After spending 20 minutes doing searches on the Harlem Renaissance, I wondered if there would every be another wave of expression along those lines. And if it is to be during my lifetime, I know AP will be among those to be remembered.

AP also has an audio reading of We Live Not in Vain.

This is a link to photos from and depictions of the Harlem Renaissance (from my Google search).

Vent Now Or Forever Hold Your Peace

I called LuCiana and ranted and raved about some trivial happening, then I went and wrote Ang an email about that same trivial happening. All the while, I knew it was trivial and I knew that all I needed to do was walk through the FREEDOM steps. After walking through the steps, I was able to move beyond the silly issue, which wasn't even a REAL issue--it was pathetic really.

A few times since finishing my therapy, I've allowed myself to call someone and vent. I do this just to remember what a "phone vent" feels like; so, today, I vented purposefully to see the results. I've found that venting can cause me more frustration than the initial problem that caused me to vent. It allows me to fester until my vision is blurred by whatever pissed me off last week! It allows a trivial circumstance to become a large drama. It can be a slow death (stress does accumulate and kill) and detour me from my goals.

THEN THERE ARE THE OTHER TIMES.

Times when a small vent allows me to let out the physical frustration so that I can move on.

My point? I try to choose my vents like I choose my other battles because some are meant to be won--and others lost.

What person willingly walks into a battle she knows she's going to lose. **Nikki raises her hand and clears her throat** Okay, so what, I do it sometimes. But I try to keep my foolish actions down to a minimum. Like saying I was gonna give up sweets for a week. It ain't gonna happen. I don't believe in deprivation! I want all the cookies! All of 'em! I'm just playing. Sweets are my friend, not my enemy--but there is a thin line. And if I eat too many, that "thin line" sho' won't be my waistline.

Okay y'all, I'm rambling. I just felt like chatting with you all a little (Isom's napping and I had a few minutes to spare).

Toodles!

Shoo Shoos

It's the end of another special day, which had its ups and downs. The baby's got this annoying machine on his crib that continuously plays these froggie noises. I'd like to go and hammer the thing to death, but that wouldn't be in line with my practice of the FREEDOM steps. Aside from chasing Buddy around today, lots of other good things happened too:

--White man goes into a bank and tells cashier that 3 black crackheads forced him to go in and ask for money. Come to find out, he's a crackhead, AND he works for the school system. One of his coworkers remarked, "I can't and WON'T believe any of this until I speak to Mark myself." Come on lady, he's a crackhead. He wouldn't know the truth if he'd stuffed it down his own throat; hell, he'd stuff anything down his throat for a chance to wrap his lips around a crack pipe.

--Black Cadet rapes 6 women. One woman finally came forward and then I guess the rest followed suit. Come on black man! Yo, what is up wit'chu, dude!? And I mean, youz a nice lookin' fella. It don't look like you gotta take it from women, I'm pretty sho' they'z throwin' it at 'chu! (That was a little raunchy, but hey, it was the truth.)

--Two men are attempting to run against a female Governor for the upcoming term. *sigh* It takes two men to take on one woman. Come on guys! Governor Rell, do the damn thing, girl! And I don't care if you're a Republican, I'm still lovin' it!

I've got to go. Shoo Shoos is having an amazing going-out-of-business sale, and I need to catch the sale before the shoes I want are sold out. For those of you who have kids and are in love with the famous Robeez shoes (Isom is wearing them in his pictures--they're the only shoes I buy him), then you'll love Shoo Shoos. Like Robeez they are soft-soled footwear that won't slide off of your baby's feet (and any mom knows how frustrating that is). Robeez and Shoo Shoos can be very pricey if you factor in how short of a time babies can wear one size. Right now Shoo Shoos are selling for 40 - 70% off. The prices are mindboggling, really. I'm about to buy Isom at least 4 pairs. Four pairs of Robeez (and Shoo Shoos at their original prices) can run you close to $130, but I'm about to pay $55 for four pairs of Shoo Shoos.

Boy do I sound like a walking advertisement. Anywho, I've got to run.

Ang, that email you sent was too funny. Sometimes we just have to get our vent on.

Mr. Bizzy Bee

Bizzy Bee

Let's just say that the baby has turned from being busy to being way too busy. It's hard finding the time to post. If I set him on the floor with some toys, he ditches them and opts to try to stick his finger into some electrical sockets. And yes, I have socket protectors and he knows how to take them off; they've become one of his favorite things to chew on. I've ordered some of those protective plates, which I'm hoping will solve the socket problem.

Last week, when I was at Isom's gym class, the instructor asked all the parents about their babies' new developments. I was frazzled, as I'd arrived to class late, and I responded, truthfully, "Nothing I can think of. Um, he licked the toilet seat." The crowd broke out in laughter, and I spent the entire class discussing Isom's toilet licking situation.

I usually keep the bathroom door closed, but this one day I'd forgotten; I was probably on the computer trying to post something to you guys. I turned to see why things were so quiet, and I noticed that Isom was gone. "Oh, crap!" I thought to myself, "The bathroom door's open." I ran into the bathroom and found him gnawing on the toilet seat. After I scooped him up, I looked at the seat, and I saw a huge puddle of drool. Yuck! And little dude was way too proud of himself. He'd finally gotten what'd he been itching for--a rendezvous with the porcelain bowl.

Caught Trying to Sneak into Bathroom

Here's my take on babies: Newborns (0-3 months) are boring because all they do is sleep, but at least you can get stuff done. Three- to six -month-olds are fun (they respond and coo), but they can't move on their own; and so, you have to do everything for them, which makes it hard to get stuff done. Six- to twelve-month-olds are a ball of enthusiasm for life, and they can do for themselves--but try keeping up with them, it'll either age you or put you in the best physical shape of your life.

I must go. Isom is napping in my lap, and I'm going to try to move him to his pack-n-play, which will probably be a bad move because he'll probably wakeup and refuse to go back to sleep. But I'm gonna try my luck.

What is youz guys up to?

Thembi & Preston: 92 Days to Go

Many of you will be attending the Fulse/Kimbrough wedding. Because of that, I thought I'd post Thembi and Preston's wedding website, blog, and photo album addresses.

The wedding website: http://kimbroughandfulse.weddings.com.
The photo album address: http://photos.yahoo.com/thembipreston.
The blog address: http://360.yahoo.com/thembipreston.
Their email address: ThembiPreston@yahoo.com.

Their wedding website has all the pertinent wedding information (hotels, air accommodations, times, locations, maps, wedding party participants list, photo album, guestbook...). Please take a minute and sign their guestbook. Couples need all the well-wishes they can get.

Their blog will keep you up to date on their everyday happenings leading up to AND through the honeymoon (ooo-la-la!). They also have pictures and polls on the blog, and just like this blog, you can leave comments.

I have given the couple's engagement my own theme: What Love Looks Like. I think it fits.

Thembi & Preston: What Love Looks Like

When loved knocked, we answered the door.
When times got rough, we stood still in God's love.
When things were great, we knew our love had stood the test of time.
When we exchange our vows, all shall see "What Love Looks Like," and we, too, shall know God through our own love for each other.
--Written by Nikki Ann for Thembi & Preston

"A Glimpse Into Tunisia's Life Through Pictures and Blurbs"

Tunisia & Victoria

Tunisia says: The first picture is me sitting on Tori's (Tunisia's daughter) lap, which is pretty symbolic of our life: I am constantly trying to keep her under control.

Nikki says: Victoria is a very talented (she can dance, draw, write, but that girl sho' cain't sang! no-no!) and "high-spirited" young lady. As her Auntie Crystal says, "Nikki, Victoria thinks she's your age." And she really does, twice this week I've received voicemails from her, trying to update me on the local "happenings."

Tunisia & Little Will

Tunisia says: And Willie's (Tunisia's son) picture says it all: He smothers me with his "neediness/love"

Nikki says: Little Will is a sweetheart and does a great job ushering at church. He wants some of those old school white gloves we used to wear while ushering (Man, I wish I hadn't thrown mine out!).

There was a third picture that Tunisia wanted to post but she couldn't find it. It was a family picture that would have included her eldest daughter, Marquita.

Tunisia says: The last picture would have been our XMAS picture. Although we were all together, if you look at the picture Marquita is facing outward - which I guess symbolizes her attempt to breakfree of her home life.

Nikki says: Marquita will soon be ending her first year as a college student. She is going through a wonderful metamorphosis--becoming a woman ain't easy. And though Tunisia couldn't find her picture, I have a picture of Marquita from November 2005 when she was babysitting Isom. Marquita is great with children, it's her gift.

Marquita & Isom

Tunisia, thanks for sharing a piece of your world.
And for the rest of you, feel free to submit your pictures and blurbs at anytime.

Mourning Mr. P

Isom's taking a nap on my lap and I'm sitting here mourning. Today I've gotten quite a few emails regarding my brother and Thembi's wedding and Thembi's shower (both which will be memorable events). The more I read, the more my heart sank. Let's be honest, I'm mourning the loss of my brother.

I know he ain't dead, but soon he'll be moving out of the house to begin his journey with Thembi (whom we in Connecticut call Tee Tee, and heck, we've never asked if she likes the name or not!).

I've know Tee Tee since I was in the 7th grade or so--she's gorgeous, smart and totally amazing. So Preston's made a great match, it's just that for so long, aside from my mom, I'd been his main lady. And it's not about all the lavish trips and gifts he's showered on me (and y'all, that amounts to more money than I care to count...Cancun, Bahamas, Costa Rica...!), but it's about how close we've been BEFORE I was born. For those who don't know, my brother is the one who named me. To recount a bit of the story, mom says that she'd questioned four-year-old Preston as to whether or not he was sure he wanted my name to be Nikki and not Nicole. He assured her that Nikki was the name he wanted, and I've been stuck with it for life. I say stuck because folks want so badly to call me Nicole, they just assume Nikki's a nickname. (FYI: In Greek, Nikki means victory of the people).

Like I was saying, my brother was an awesome older sibling. He wasn't the type that didn't want his bratty sister with him. That boy would bring me any and everywhere with him. When we were younger we used to sleep in the same bed on Christmas Eve and we'd discuss Santa and his reindeer, and in the later years we exchanged information on the gifts we'd found hidden around the house. When he reached driving age, and I was in Junior High School, he'd come to my school and take me out of my classes to go to the mall (he was only four years ahead of me, so all of my teachers knew him). Then when he'd come home on breaks from college at FAMU, he'd call up to my High School and tell the teachers that I needed an early dismissal. Man was he cool!

I loved my brother's gear, and I'd cry to my mom if he didn't let me borrow any of his Beneton or Izod stuff. Devilish P! Yup, that was his nickname. Devilish P. As a toddler they called him Peanut. My Peanut. My protector. The dude who made all of the wrong moves and mistakes so that I didn't have to trip over the same bumps in the road. I thank him for crashing the Volvo into a snow bank, for coming home pissy drunk in high school and asking me to spray the room with Lysol, for wasting a couple of years at FAMU partying and drinking his ass off. Thank you P! Thank you for making this friggin'' life of mine lush, lavish, luxurious, and interesting. I know you're in good hands with my sister, Thembi, but your presence in the house will be missed.

No more being paid $20 a week just to make your bed. No more dropping you off to work so that I can borrow your hot ride. No more spending summer days flossing in your ride like it was mine, rolling down Main Street chillin' in the Volvo with the sunroof open. No more sneaking money from your hidden stash and never paying you back!

But, let's look at the flip side. I'm gaining a brother who has the strength and COURAGE to become a man. When he'd told mom and I that he was gonna ask Tee Tee to marry him, I told him, "I'm proud of you, you've chosen one of the TWO hardest things to do--be married and have a baby." So hats off to him for taking a leap into his manhood. Hats off to him for being a black brother who's doing the damn thing. And like I've told him in a private conversation we had over the phone last year, "If you do ANYTHING to mess up and I find out, you'd better run and tell Thembi, 'cause as soon as I get wind of it, I'm gonna tell her! Once you've married Thembi, she becomes my sister, and I wouldn't let anyone hurt my sister. The same way that I protect you, is that same way that I'm gonna protect her. You've chosen marriage, so do the damn thing right, if not, that means ya' need to stay single."

Well, it's after 3 p.m. Preston'll probably be home in the next hour or so. He'll either come home and have our cousin Tony trailing right behind him (they'll be arguing about something) or he'll come in by himself, peep his head into this room where I'm working, and say something really rude and foul, which will wake Isom up and cause me to say something foul back to him. *sigh* Can't you just smell the love in the air?

Phew! This was a mouthful. I'm glad that I got it out and I feel better. But damn, I'mma miss robbin' him of his cashflow! LOL!

Shout out to my sister Thembi! It's almost time to kiss your toad and turn him into a Prince.

Besos!

For AP

This audio post is for our friend AP. I made this post and was about to delete it when I realized that hey, it may be imperfect, but it's perfect in its imperfection. At the end of the post I'd lost my train of thought, but it is what it is. I could have re-recorded it, but it would not have been as genuine or easyflowing. AP, the point is that no matter how "unispired" I felt while posting it, I still did it. And who knows, someone might find my imperfection to be a breathe of fresh air in their busy day.

And I just checked AP's blog and she's done an audio reading of one of her poems. Wow! AP, you are an amazing talent. Feel free to checkout AP's reading of her poem "69" at the following link: http://apmanque.blogspot.com/2006/03/69-spoken.html (this is the spoken version). This link is to the written version, which also give an explanation as to where the title "69" came from (and it's not what some of you are thinking) http://apmanque.blogspot.com/2006/03/69.html.

And of course, AP's blog is: http://apmanque.blogspot.com/.

Isom and I are off to gym class.

Errands

It's snowing outside, Connecticut weather is strange. Isom and I have lots to do today. We're off to mail that eBay item he was just playing with. What are you guys up to?