After locating my shoes we all head off to church.  As the choir sang a hymn Mr. Incredible kept giving me the *side eye*. “Why is he looking at me?” I thought.  I met his eyes and he mouthed the words, ” Are you gonna take your hat off?”

Damn. And here I go thinking I was cute.

I was fine for the first few bumps, sets and spikes.  But about 10 minutes into the game my ankles started to ache, my knees began to buckle and my wrist became stiff. My breathing was labored and I was clasping my chest. But I kept going. The kids thought I was being funny (yes, I am normally a hilarious teacher). So they didn’t pay any mind to “Crazy Mrs. Grant” (that’s what they call me). They were quite impressed with my volleyball skills and wanted me to continue playing.

I played for a complete hour. I was sweaty, swollen, and in pain. My lower back was tight and I had to struggle to make it out of the gym back to my classroom where I slumped over in my leather desk chair. Thank God it was the end of the day.

I hurried to my car-best I could and drove home. My bathtub was quickly filled with scalding hot water and epsom salt bath beads. I sat and soaked.  Throughout the weekend I suffered with swollen feet and hands, stiff wrist and ankles and a terribly sore back.

But that won’t stop me. This week, I’ll show those youngsters they can’t hold me down. I’m going back on that court to bump, set, and spike on all my students. I will not be defeated!

My mother passed last year. And the check that I received came from her estate. It represents her death. I didn’t even know she had an “estate”. I thought that was only for people like Bill Gates, Donald Trump, Russel Simmons.

I hate that she died. I hate it. Almost every day I look up to heaven and ask her “Who told you that you could leave us?” I can’t believe she’s gone. Really, I can’t.

It’s been almost a year. I still get an inkling to call her. Every. Day.

Last Sunday as I sat in church the choir began to sing “I Am Thine, O Lord”. I couldn’t take it. Tears rolled down my face like a river. My mother used to sing that song all the time. All the time. I realized, sitting in church crying like a baby, that she was the only person I had ever heard sing that song. I had never heard the song actually sung by a choir. 

Draw me nearer, nearer blessèd Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died.
Draw me nearer, nearer, nearer blessèd Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side.

I wish I could write a happy post about how wonderful Mother’s Day is and how blessed I feel to have three beautiful, healthy children. But the truth is, I don’t want to celebrate Mother’s Day. I can’t. Because even though it’s been eleven months since my mother’s death. My soul is still crushed. Crushed. 

So, I’m thankful to God for giving me such an amazing, strong willed, hilarious mother whom I absolutely adore. But I cannot celebrate this Mother’s Day. I just can’t.

I know this picture doesn’t accurately display how fabulously cute my little piggies are. Seriously, I have cute feet……during the winter. When it’s cold outside, my feet are protected from the harsh weather by layers and layers of lotion, thick cotton socks and heavy shoes. My feet stay nice and warm. And my skin stays nice and soft.

Just the opposite is true in the summer. You can see how bad my feet look. Do you have any suggestions for my dry, sun-tanned, swollen feet?

What was the builder thinking? Did he run out of brick and have to change to a different type? Did the homeowner suddenly have a loss of income and decided to opt for a less expensive building material?

I’m sure the house has a beautiful floor plan. And it’s in a fantastic neighborhood. I just can’t get past the facade. It’s awful.

Maybe it’s just me, but this house is two different colors, right? What was the purpose of this? At  no point in time did anyone notice that the brick doesn’t match? I really want to knock on the owner’s door and ask a few questions?

But for fear of getting my head blown off with a rifle, I just ride by the house each and every day (very slowly) and roll my eyes in disgust.

This is an ugly ass house.

At his request I brought lunch home for the family after a full morning at the hair salon . I got my hair colored a beautiful, golden brown. It is truly fabulous…but I digress. As we sat down to eat Mr. Incredible mentioned that there were three, I repeat, three cans of Coke left in the fridge. He got one and brought one over to me, which, for all you math geniuses leaves only one can left, right? Right.

We finished lunch and carried on with our normal weekend routine: naps, watching TV, napping some more, playing the Wii, yelling at the kids, napping even more.

Later that night…well, really early the next morning as we flipped the channels between Saturday Night Live and Inside the NBA post game show I mosied over to the microwave and popped my leftover lunch in it. As I turned to the refridgerator to get a Coke to drink with my late night snack Mr. Incredible, as if reading  my mind, asked me to bring him a Coke… then it us. There was only one left.

Without allowing me time to tell him he couldn’t have it, he asked (in a defeated tone) “Can we share it?” Immediately, without thinking I shouted “NO!”.

I hurt his feelings. He was disappointed. AND I DID NOT CARE!!!!!

I love my husband. I vowed to stay with him for better or worse, richer or poorer, blah, blah, blah. But that minister said NOTHING, absolutely nothing about sharing the very last can of  Coke.  

I’ve been a stalker since I moved to Atlanta 14 years ago. But today, my stalker habits have spilled over into the non-superstar status folks. I discovered Erin Harper a few months ago while perusing the Atlanta Journal Constitution’s website. She’s a fellow blogger and funny as hell. So I bookmarked her blog and began checking it from time to time.

Fast forward to tonight after a full day of shopping and eating way too much. I plop down on my couch, flip on the basketball game and log on to YouTube. Scrolling through my subscriptions I noticed that Erin Harper had uploaded a new video. I got excited. Her videos have always proven to make me crack a smile. And this latest one did more than that. I watched Erin and her friend Alisha freestyle about a slice of cheesecake. I watched them sing Jodeci, discuss Barry White’s mortality status and get lost in a parking lot.

I covered my eyes and laughed. Over and over again. Tears streamed down my face. My stomach began to burn. This was too much hilarity for me. Oh how I wish I was in the back seat of their car riding around with them partaking in the fun. Well, since they are now my imaginary best friends I guess I’ll  have to watch this video repeatedly. Let the stalking begin……

When my students were given their daily assignment to choose a scene from Romeo and Juliet, rewrite it, and perform the scene for their classmates I was overjoyed by their enthusiasm. One of my students asked if she could go and get her wig from her locker to use as a prop.  “You have a wig in your locker?” I asked with a great deal of apprehension. “Yeah” she replied as if everyone in the entire school traveled around with a wig.

After she returned with the hair ornament I asked her if I could put it on. Hey, it was Friday. And we only have a month left in school. So on this day, I wasn’t my normal stern, no nonsense self that the students usually see. I was feeling good. So I put the wig on and pranced around the class doing my best Cher impersonation.

The students laughed, we took pictures. Then one of my students yelled across the room “You look like Nikki Minaj!” Suddenly, as if I was hit by lightening, the stern, no nonsense teacher in me came back to life. I took the wig off, fixed my mohawk back in place and yelled at them to get back to work.  It was a good day.

Writing has been my solace for so long. It gives me a sense of calm. I feel satisfied when I finish a piece, fulfilled.

Lately, I haven’t been able to write as much (unless you count the constant revisions to my resume). There’s simply no time in the day.  I’ve written numerous cover letter, uploaded many resumes, made a ton of calls. All of that work has amounted to two, I repeat, two interviews. Neither of which amounted to anything except an incredible waste of time and gas.

I’m excited about this summer. Of course, there will be sunshine, beautiful temperatures and a relaxing environment where my kids and I will be able to just hang out. But I’ll have more time to simply write. No pressure, no time lines, no anything…just writing. I can’t wait.

What would you do if you had all the time in the world?

So, when Mr. Incredible and I decided to succumb to all the hype and go see Think Like A Man, I was ready-ready with my two thumbs down before the movie even began. I’ve always been firm in my opinions and rarely do I allow someone to alter how I feel. That being said, I always admit when I am wrong. So here it goes….. I was totally wrong about Think Like A Man!

I was blown away by this movie. The storyline is fantastic. I assumed it would be a men vs. women, sex-crazed, naked-single people movie. Now, it had it’s share of sex scenes. But Think Like A Man was certainly not about bashing the opposite gender.

This movie was entertaining from beginning to end. Of course, I laughed. How can a person not laughed when confronted with Kevin Hart’s ignorance? He’s funny, so very funny. But Kevin Hart’s comedy only adds to the fantastic acting and compelling characters that round out the cast. These characters were so diverse and balanced. Each of them, from Zeke’s (Romany Malco) womanizing ways, to Kristen’s (Gabrielle Union) enabling personality, you root for their triumph of love and happiness.

Michael Ealy *swoon* is a breath of fresh air. His character, Dominic, is a  great departure from the alcoholic, child-murdering character he portrayed in For Colored Girls. I have to admit. Each time he appeared on screen the corner of my mouth turned up into a sly grin (which I had to conceal from Mr. Incredible). His blue eyes are mesmerizing and I cheered for his character (Dominic) throughout the film.

The on screen connection between Terrence J (Michael) and Regina Hall (Candace) was apparent. I’m so happy that Terrence J is spreading his wings into the acting arena. I admit, I’m not much of a fan of 106 and Park. So, to see him move from small screen roles in The Game to big time films like Think Like A Man is a pleasant surprise.

I could go on and on about the wonderful acting and phenomenal harmony that existed between the cast mates. But instead let me just say this:  the day this movie comes out on DVD I’ll be standing in line, with DVD in hand, ready to purchase my copy. It will be viewed over and over again and placed next to my favorite romantic movie of all time- Love Jones.

Have you seen Think Like A Man? Who is your favorite character?