Charity begins at home...

...in the kitchen with the "good" scissors and the big comb.

Yesterday was no ordinary hair day at Mom's salon. Well, there were the usual tears and threats to "leave you looking just like this". But, it was also much more, so much more, some might say it was the best hair day ever.

A few months ago after plans to have her nose pierced were thwarted by a responsible piercer (I say it's adultism...but that's a whole other post.) Yael Rose, looking for ways to express herself-gratefully sans the usual histrionics- spotted a young woman with BIG kinky curls. "Mom, can my hair do that? I wanna do that with my hair!" She was giddy at first sight.

Hair politics being what they are (and in my opinion aren't) I admittedly began deliberations; far more thought than was warranted for a hairstyle, but the pull of familiar thought patterns is strong even if said thought patterns are woven with ridiculous.

Whilst repeating, "It's only hair." In my mind, and at times aloud, it became clear to me that it may only be hair to us, but it is hair, like wow-oh-my-goodness-beautiful-amazing hair to someone in need, and the decision was finalized. Yael could have her cut, and BIG kinky curls and we'd entrust Locks of Love to pass on her generous gift of ooh-girl-thank-goodness-I-don't-have-to-comb-that-stuff-no-more...er I mean wow-oh-my-goodness-beautiful-amazing hair!

And, we did it! Her donation was just under 11 inches when pulled straight. After the big cut, Yael exclaimed, "Well, I'll never do that again"! Already wrought with anxiety, I came from behind to face her and said excitedly, "You regret it?!" She replied, "Yeah. I'll never let it grow that long again!" Heartbeat? Check. One cool kid? You bet!

Note: BIG kinky curls 'grow' upon standing. Stay tuned...

Peace and love

I'm back...

"Ovid's Hope" In A People House -T.Allen-Mercado 2011

The winter season has, dear friends, taken me on quite a tour of the whirl variety, not at all to be mistaken for the far more propitious tour of the world variety. Tumult abound, I have been forced to face some painful truths. But, in the darkness of recognizance, I have found light in the infinite promise of hope.

“Hope is the feeling that the feeling you have isn’t permanent.” -Jean Kerr

I feel renewed and resigned-willfully this time- to accept hope as an answer, when all else fails. Thank you, all of you who have shown support here, or via Networked Blogs on Facebook. Your presence, and the realization that my words and feelings therein resonate with so many others is truly a gift.

This blog is a great source of comfort to me, and whilst I've been sucktastically erratic in my posting schedule, being here is one of the things I've missed and needed most. It feels good to be back, and believe me, I am back.

Peace and hope

The Ghost of Christmas Impasse

"Twas the night before Christmas, Christmas day, the day after and another damn day after that, and all the through the house not a kind word was spoken betwixt a wife and her spouse."

Alas I've reached the point of reason...well, maybe not reason but some semblance of cogent thought and articulation, that I might write (Read: purge) what ails me about "special days" and the special pressures they present. Along the same vein as people who bellow out in anguish and upset when their favorite celebrity is revealed to be er...um, human, I have come to find that I have gravely mistaken egg nog as the cure for assholery. Hark, the shame and frustration!

Much like celebrities, special days are just regular ol' days with added expense, pretense and expectations. And boy, did that I ever learn that the hard way this year.

Some of you may have noticed my erratic and harried posting schedule; many days and events' recaps cut from lag between posts and sheer lack of memory. I've been pretty bogged down with my business, my books and some of the less exciting aspects of real life. Why, why then- did I think the twenty-fourth of December would swoop in on a sleigh and bring with it cute mammals adorned in bells -of the un-ringing variety, please, I am a mother, silence is both golden, and scarce- patience, peace, respect, consideration, compassion, [insert other things that don't incite me to full-blown histrionics]. What was I thinking?! Well, whatever it was, clearly it was not a shared sentiment, because my December 24th came swooping in alright, and out of me came words I'm almost ashamed to repeat. OK, so that last part is a big fat lie if I ever told one, but it sounds good...so, let's stick with it.


In truth, it was disappointing, I was disappointed, I am disappointed, and although I'm quite pissed with the Favorite Guy, I may very well be most pissed with myself for having just realized...admitted- Oh semantics, you can suck it too- the obvious."This is no new elephant, Tameka, and you went and put lights and silver doodads on it?! Hell, now it seems larger, and even more ominous"!


Now on the heels of a brand NEW! year, I'm feeling yet more pressure. Yes, in addition to the sad and heavy said glittered elephant has left deep in my craw. "I've got to snap out of this, everyone will be making resolutions and writing lists", I say. Yet, the best I can come up with is a plan for surrender, a white flag, an un-flipped bird, one final act of anything but willful resignation. More pressure, more pretense, more blog fodder. Sighs and sulks.

Hey, how much alcohol do you think it takes to kill an elephant? No, not a real one, silly.

I'll take peace for a thousand , Alex.

Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Phase One: The 7 Year Itch Project

Can "The Great Tameka" pack, paint, unpack and decorate without going completely mad before Festimas? Stay tuned to find out...

Peace

Thanks Given

Thanksgiving 2010

I hope all who partake enjoyed a happy, healthy Thanksgiving. We shared a quiet intimate dinner at home; just the four of us. This is no easy task with all of the hustle and bustle in each of our daily lives', so we are truly grateful to have been able to carve out this time for reflecting and reconnecting.

Thanksgiving is one of those complicated celebrations for me, as I'm not too keen on its painful historical past. I do however, remain meditatively mindful of the lives, culture and history lost when we gather to savor our own sweet, but fleeting time together.

Peace, gratitude and grace