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Amber Alert

*courtesy of Google* Amber Alert is an emergency response system that disseminates information about a missing person (usually a child), by media broadcasting or electronic roadway signs.


… and with that being said, it doesn’t mean a fucking thing to me.  You see, nowadays we live in a society where drug dealers get maximum sentences verses the murderers who get the minimum. A system that serves and protect law enforcement agents who are bigger thugs than the ones on the streets.  We live in a society where racism still exists, marriage is just a piece of paper and it’s okay for a person to snatch your child out of school (regardless of who the child lives with, who the child knows, or who has always been the primary caregiver their entire life) as long as their name is on the birth certificate. So someone tell me, what the fuck or who the fuck does this Amber Alert protects… because it didn’t protect mine.

Now I could sit here and give you my whole life story… or my child’s, in this matter. I could bring you into my world and tell you how the past 48 hours have been absolute hell. I could try and swoon my audience into being on my side, make you sympathize with me… protest for ME. Look at me and what they did to me!! But who should this really be about? There are 3 sides to every story and no one knows who side really counts?  

Now let’s back track a little here.  When these Amber Alerts were being sent out, did the media broadcast that the child was abducted by either their mom or dad? Does it depict who the culprit is and whether or not their name is on the birth certificate (LOL)…. because if in fact the name is on the birth certificate (in which I just learned), then what the hell are you looking for; or, should we say WHO the hell are you looking for? Does the Amber Alert ONLY alert when and if the child is with a pedophile? Or maybe there is a code that you give to the police so that THEY know you have the right to send out an alert. Because you never know… I mean the way this government is set up nowadays.. ijs. From what we know or what we thought the purpose served, the Amber Alert should work in everyone’s favor, right? At least, the missing child’s favor, because that’s who the victim really is. 

Now let’s brainstorm. If a person has been soul provider for their child from the time that they were born, you would think that they would have more rights than the person who is only there to pick up the slack. And because a mother is automatically tied to the duties of a being that soul provider once the child is born, you would think that would automatically give her more rights, as well. No one asks dad, grandma, aunt or uncle, brother or sister what would YOU like to name the baby or please sign off on these discharge papers and aftercare instructions.  Even if WHOMEVER, man or woman, signed the affidavit for having a child out of wedlock and YES you claim this child is yours… so that your name can be printed on the birth certificate, NO ONE asks that person anything in regards to the care of that child. BECAUSE WHY… they are not the mother. And because SHE delivered the baby, everyone is under the notion that SHE will be the one taking care of the baby. Married or not. 

Bringing you up to speed… you can raise your child, lay a foundation and make a path for them to walk the good road… only for it all to be snatched away as if IT, YOU, nor THAT CHILD ever existed. And even though the nurses, doctors, teachers and so forth look forward to contacting the mother through it all, there is still another name listed on the birth certificate and that person has the right to undermine your authority and make you out to be the culprit in the Amber Alert broadcast. Your rights are stripped and basically the system has bitch slapped you and made you walk down the street with your drawers at your ankles and your tail between your legs.  

Now you’re at war with one another. Who is the better fit and who did what, when, where and how. Money spent and money lost… all to gain what in the process. Because the truth of the matter is, no matter who won the case in court, the child still loses.   

Until next time bloggers… 

AWOL

Where do I begin?

First I would like to apologize to my readers for my disappearing acts. I actually still wasn’t going to to write anything today, but I feel I owe everyone an explanation (and apology) because… I mean, I do have followers for a reason. And it has been too long of a time span between my writings.

Life has been in an uproar for the past couple of months. Operation-Buy-A-House failed. It was bad timing anyway and I realize, now, that I have quite a bit of baggage to get rid of before making that step. A few screws that need to be tightened. Nothing major but I know what I need to do. God works in mysterious ways, but I am happy the outcome turned out the way that it did. Because now I can really get my shit together.

As I have been saying up here plenty of times before, I have been searching for a new job. I finally went on an interview. Haven’t heard anything back yet though. Dealing with the State does take some time. I have my fingers crossed and am praying for this change. Lord knows, I need it. But whatever happens, I know it was God’s will.

My birthday is coming up. Next Monday to be exact. All plans that I began with initially at the start of last year has abruptly gone down the drain. I will be spending my birthday weekend supporting “Pending” in burying his brother. Godspeed, I’m going to assume and hope that I have more birthdays to come. In the meantime, I’ll just look forward to a quiet year next year. It’s not really all that exciting anymore.

“Pending’s” brother… where do I begin? Sort of like my very own brother. *tear* And that is all I have to say about that. *R.I.P my Bloc*

Looking forward to a brighter future. “Pending” and I have been on great terms. He is becoming the man that I need and want him to be. I couldn’t be happier. I guess sometimes you have to hit that rocky patch to know just how to smooth the road out. It was a much needed argument/fight/breakup/makeup… I guess it’s all about whether or not you are willing to duke it out and we did. Wedding bells are faintly ringing in the air. Looking forward to a destination wedding (Jamaica) in about 2 years time. I think I’m going to have to change his name to “Official” LOL!!! 😉

Superior and Blessing are great!! They’re bad as hell and know exactly how to get on my nerves but I wouldn’t know how to deal with anything less. They keep me on my toes and what little motivation I do have, comes from them little rascals. We could use a lot of attitude and anger adjustments, but I can’t be all that adamant about it being as though they got that part from me… *holds head in shame* Never the less, I love it all at the same rate. It means they won’t take shit from nobody (including me). We just need to get some organization about it, somewhere, at some point. They haven’t quite figured out how and when to use it. lol

My jail breaks (bailbonding) have been going well. Business isn’t booming quite yet. But I do like the fact that I am actually making a difference in people’s lives. When you talk to adults like they are adults and assure them that you really care about their well-being and getting their life under control, and that you are not here just for the small cash advance; then you will actually see progression. I actually love my job. No matter what time of the day or night it is, I can be there to help. It’s funny how bailbonding is more than just that name; it’s counseling and consoling too.

Sense So Common has been on one wack ass break. I’ve probably had plenty of shit to talk about but just couldn’t put it all into words. Or maybe, I’ve just been too lazy to put my brain to work. Writing is normally my release and instead of me doing what I love to do best, I have been bullshittin’ and lolligaggin’ around this mofo’ as if I’m the only negro whose slave master beats the shit out of them LMAO!!! Don’t ask me where that analogy came from. Anywho, I’m not going to make any promises and say that I will be back soon or that I’m going to try and post something at least once a week or even once a month. I’m just gonna say when I return, I’m gon’ knock your mutha-lovin socks off!

Until next time bloggers….

Up 4 Discussion Presents…

What would Adam Lanza’s “real” Mother Say?

Join me on Up 4 Discussion as I voice my opinion on a touchy topic concerning parenthood as well as the considerable amounts of judgement blows that are being thrown at women (2 in particular) for their efforts (or lack of) to take care of a child with mental illness.

After all is said and done, let me know what you think about these situations and how the woman mentioned describes her son? How do you think Adam Lanza’s real mother would have described his childhood?

Until next time bloggers…

What would Adam Lanza’s “real” Mother Say?

Trials Of A Mother: Mom vs. Dad

There’s a difference between under-rated and haven’t made it-Meek Mills

Once you have children, you find out that they hold so much weight over you. I live a life in “the quiet”. I’m hardened. And unless you could actually exchange souls with me, you would never know the exact feelings that which I have learned to professionally keep in the calming abyss of my brain. Life is a struggle without the whining and bitching of someone else who has walked this Earth just as long as you have. But when you are stuck in the middle (somewhere) who is there to tell you which way to go? I would rather bypass advice from those who really can’t understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. Opinionated people can sometimes give off good talk game, but does that really help to solve your problem? I could only think of one person that could possibly be my cure-all, so I called out to my Grandmother (Lord rest her soul, 12 years and you would think the grieving process would have subsided by now) last night and she wasn’t there to answer me back. At that moment of no response, I realized what makes me the weakest link… my kids. My hard rock turned to soft and the water flowed faster than the rivers. I was hurt. And I had no one to console me the way that I know only she could have done.

A Little Background Info
From the outside looking in… a quick explanation of how my son’s father and I share him, you would think, “oh that’s awesome!”, “that’s great that he does dot-dot-dot”. But to be honest, I never cared for the extra help. Or maybe, it’s that I never cared for him period. So I would rather have done without his presence from then until now. I believe this is the cycle of where I pay for my sins. Never in a million years did I believe that I would be able to birth my own kryptonite. I have to learn to become immune to the glow and sustain a state of submissivness for the sake of my child. I’ve found this man to be a vicious blood sucker which I knew from jumpstreet, AFTER my son was born (everyone else found out years later). Needless to say, I found out I was pregnant 2 months after completely ridding him of my life. I should have left it that way. I had never met a snake in person until I met him. But the moral of all of this begins with the quote that I stated above…

The Moral
Children hold strong to things that interest them. Memories that settle in and stick, even if it is for a split second. They believe that this is how life is suppose to be every single second there after. I agree. And if that was in any way, shape, form or fashionably possible, I would most definitely love to keep the line of tremendous pops of fireworks going every single day. Instead, a working mother loses sight of even being alive. You are only here to make things comfortable and enjoyable for your children, instill in them the mechanics of life and hope they take heed and prosper into the star you would like for them to be. In other words, you hustle your ass off every single day and hope that your kids don’t show resentment towards your grind once they get older. They are too young to understand. This is what portrays an image of “difference” between whose head of household. Those who have time and those who don’t. What they believe is good for them and what they don’t. BUT if they don’t know any difference between the two, then all they would know is what they were born into, you would think. I admit my work load can get the best of me. Maybe that is why when special events, birthdays or whatnot come around, I tend to overtly stress because I want it to be pure perfection. I have to choose the perfect gift. Things have to be perfectly in sync with whatever it is my son or daughter asks for. I’ve concocted miracles out of my ass, ears, nostrils… basically every hole in my body, and yet I remain the under-rated of the 2 parenting species. I’m judged for not buying a toy at the drop of a dime. I’m judged for letting a practice slip my mind. I’m judged for working. Judged for cooking, for parenting, disciplining, for paying bills…

Going In
I believe that if I had a source for freeloading that would take care of me and pay my bills, I could put in the excess time and effort to completely consume my life with my children and still have plenty time left over to piss off the other parent too. I can honestly say that I can teach my son how to be more of a man than his sperm donor with also stating the fact that I think I would feel some type of way (like not setting a good example) if I still lived with my mother and fed him off of her income. That’s like saying it’s ok to do this; you don’t need a job or an education, you can live with me forever. I wonder what it would be like if the tables were to turn? The day that this freeloader would have to get a job and actually fend for himself. I wonder if my son’s feelings for this person he deems as a Super Hero (technically for not having a life) would remain the same?

This is like one of those “Lifetime” movies. I never believed my life would play out where it’s Mom vs. Dumb Ass. You hear stories of parents and their bribing kids with toys and gifts. But for some odd reason, I never thought that would be considered a legitimate practice. At least not on my playing field. The Devil is playing hardball. Situations such as this leave you in positions feeling as though your faith and humbling to the cause is not enough. I’m completely blown. And after you have done so much (you think) you’re left drawn into a fetal position because there is nothing else that you can do. Your child already has everything coming from both ends (his ass and my heart). Nowadays, kids are blessed with everything they could imagine. And the parents are breaking their necks to make impossibilities somewhat possible, if not completely. I didn’t have it like that growing up. And beginning from the time that I was able to make my own money, I have worked for every single thing that I have as well as my children. It’s like I’m constantly trying to prove myself when really I know that I don’t have to. This is not a competition. So why make it out to seem like it is one? At damn near 40, one should realize when it’s time to stop being a bitch. Someone could easily think that science has naturally fucked up it’s corse and made a ni66a bleed on a monthly basis. I don’t need the extras of dealing with 2 periods in a month. I just want to look forward to lesser drama from the man-bitch and more gain of understanding with my son.

Until next time bloggers…

Up 4 Discussion Presents…

5 Things EVERYONE Should Know BEFORE Having Kids

It must be my birthday!!! LOL!! I am all over the place this morning!!! From Spoken Words & Thoughts to Up 4 Discussion. And once again, I am so honored. You see, I told you guys I’ve been busy….

Sometimes we all just need that extra push and luckily I have an awesome Blogger Boss who knows just how to push me. J decided to give us all a few topics to pick and choose from and I chose a few but I couldn’t let this one keep lingering in my email without diving in head first. Yes!! 5 things EVERYONE should know BEFORE having kids It has a ring to it, don’t you think?!

If you really want to know what to look forward to, then I’m here to give it to you. No cut cards, straight no chaser. I’m sorry my lovelies, but what type of friend would I be if I didn’t give you the whole truth and nothing but the truth?

I hope you all enjoy. Be sure to let me know what you think. Those of you who want kids in the future, let me know how you feel childbirth after reading this. And those of you that have kids now, has your experience been as joyful as mine? Whatever you do, just be sure to always, always, always check out the rest of the Up 4 Discussion family. We have such an eclectic taste in diversity.

Until next time bloggers…

Life Goes On

The excitement dies and the comforting, but yet aggonizing “Congrats” still come at you like yesterday never happened. So what do you do? Do you smile and say “thank you” and just keep walking or do you turn around and look them dead in their faces as if they are stupider than the stupidest of them all. Don’t you see I don’t have a belly anymore? Guess they won’t know unless you tell them. Realizing that there is something rather different about you, but naaahhhh, that can’t be right. Must be a pregnancy thing. But the point is, if they were never so busy meddling in your business, that little piece of time frame would have never been so awkward. So when you congratulate me (now)… are you congratulating me on my successful pregnancy or are congratulating me on my successful miscarriage? You didn’t even ask if I was carrying and I never, personally told you that I was carrying but yet you can ask me when do I find out if it is a boy or a girl. Really?! #getthefuckouttahere!!

So I can be stubborn, bitter, and downright bitchy. But if I felt the need to keep everyone aligned for my every breaking newsflash, then I would and if I don’t, then that means DON’T give me your comments, questions or concerns. Why don’t people get it? I’m not here to except pity, apologies, or sad faces. I’m only here to vent and half the time viewers/readers seem to miss the real points of my writing either way, but it’s pointless to vent about that because I’m quite sure that once this word gets out, the expected is what I will be hearing over the next couple weeks or so. One thing I can say is, when something is unexpectedly taken away from you, whether it’s been a day, a month or 10 weeks; your life seems to fall into a whole new game-level. Just a minute ago, I was coming up with names to continue my line of uniqueness and regality along with Superior (my son) and Blessing (my daughter). Just a minute ago, I was back in “mommy mode” thinking about what it would feel like to hold such a small human being again. Wondering if this will be another 4 pounder? Maybe smaller. Or will this one kick ass and reach a whopping 5? lol! The comforting smell of Johnson & Johnson baby powder and lotions. The excitement of everything new. The adrenaline rush that comes with being a “high risk” factor and still being able to conquer such miracles in the time of dier needs, literally. New editions and introductions. This is ……, your new brother, your new sister, your new grandchild, neice, nephew…. MY new son… MY new daughter… Welcome home?

I fight back the tears and become overwhelmed with mixed emotions. What am I crying for? We hadn’t even gotten to the stages of movement, so what is there to miss? I knew he/she was in there. Am I saddened because I feel inadequate as a woman that I couldn’t carry another baby? Or do I feel the embarassment from sharing with the world that I was on my way to building yet a new empire and failed? When you’re in the moment of your “glow”, expectancy becomes a responsibility for everyone else’s fascination with pregnant women… the aftermath of miscarrying is when you realize that you just lost your job. You were fired without warning or reasoning, and you are left with continuing on with your life as if nothing ever happened. So what about the little tiny heartbeat that I saw beating so rapidly? It doesn’t matter because people don’t miss what they’ve never had; along with responses to the effect of it may have been for the better or it wasn’t in God’s plans. It was only implanted in me and my memory for reference. I didn’t uphold my end of the bargain and therefore life goes on…

Until next time bloggers…

What Miracles Bring

My hormones are raging and I’m so chemically imbalanced that this could and probably should be a new case study for specialists. So I figured I would just knock you guys up for a split second so we can all share these lovely feelings together. I’ll be your dam tour guide for fatness, food and funk in your first trimester.

First let’s start off with extreme-ness… and I do mean everything! irritates the hell out of me. Here is where patience becomes a virtue and you began to understand how much of it you really have, only because you start losing it over the simplest of things. I’ll give you an example; Me and IHOP was about to fight one night because they forgot about my pancakes (speaking of which, I would really love some right now) and they didn’t realize substitutions are a no-go. For some reason, people think that when you ask for Sprite and they don’t have it, they can simply substitute Sierra Mist as if I won’t notice. Really?! Why, why, why would you do that? Just simply tell me you have Pepsi products and not Coke products, or vice versa so that I can choose accordingly; because when dealing with something that you originally never had your preggo-mind set on, it’s like 20 times worst. I almost spit that substitution in the waiters face. Self control is not heard of when dealing with preggo taste buds… we taste every friggin thing, which means it’s 10 times better or 20 times worst than ever before. When it comes to food, pregnant women instantly pick up these scavenger characteristics. They’re on a man food-hunt for the best tasting food out there or either the food that will subside whatever cravings we have been having for so long. If a woman is able to subdue a craving, OMG, it’s like a food-gasm *sigh* But always remember that no matter what, all requests must be honored..

I hate to gross people out not really but I’m about to shed a whole new light on this beautiful miracle that everyone think is so awesome. You know how you see those medicine commercials and then they shoot that line at the very end really fast about the side effects. Yeah, let’s get to the fine print. I would absolutely love to be able to take a shit without having to practice a breathing technique. Yeah, I guess lamaze comes in handy for more than just helping to deliver a baby. Constipation starts from the very beginning and if you think that is something disgusting… Hell, we are just getting started! A fart can be deadly, literally. Preggo asses no longer have the muscles to lock and clinch tight when trying to hold one in, in public. I also highly suggest that you run for cover (yes from yourself and especially those in the line of fire) or invest in a gas mask. And this is only the first couple of weeks, or months. Trust me, everything gets worst with time.

Next, let’s try talking about how it feels like someone titty punched you all day, everyday. Yes! painful for no friggin’ reason whatsoever. And the swelling?! Your aeriolas can get so big that your tit will look like you have a bunch of nipples. So I’m exaggerating a little… lol! A preggo woman’s mindframe is exaggerated, but not intentionally. But honestly, them jugs usually gain more weight than what’s in your uterus. No exaggeration here. This part will really make women enjoy being apart of the itty bitty titty committee. I would love to be pregnant with no boobs, lol. Life would be so much easier.

Your hair grows 10 times faster than ever before. Good thing for what’s on your head, bad thing for everywhere else. Your shaving routine is no longer at a decent pace of every 5 days to a week. Now you are shaving every 2 to 3 days, maybe everyday. And let’s not fail to mention those that like to go brazilian (like me). Ok… let’s try with an example. Take a basketball and hold it at your waste/tuck it in your shirt for a better effect. Now… hop in the shower and try to bend over (with baketball in tact) to mow your lawn. Are you out of breathe? Did you catch a cramp in one of your obliques? Feel like you need to throw up? Yep! We have, now, achieved the fat person’s shaving routine. We will need to practice this daily, so get use to feeling like you’re continuously putting yourself into the full nelson.

Walk from your living room to the bedroom and it should feel like you just ran a marathon. Everything makes you gag/dry heave including just talking about something gross. There is no such thing as resting or taking a nap, you just simply pass out chocolate wasted style. *shaking head* So unladylike. Pissing is a never ending task and the beginner stages of pregnancy can have you looking like you have been bingeing on beers for the past couple months. People are going to continuously stare trying to figure out if that is really a beer belly or should they ask when are you due. And once you tell them, they are all in shock like they are just so use to you simply being fat. Sexting now consist of what’s on the menu for the 2 of you to eat together. Example…

Me: ummm bae, you know what I would love to get a taste of?

Him: what’s that? 😀 (smiley face of excitement attached like I’m referring to him)

Me: I would love some of those shrimp scampi frittas from Olive Garden and an order of lobster cannelloni with shrimp and a side of chicken and gnocchi soup. Um bae, doesn’t that sound good?

Him: oh… call in the order, I’ll be there in a few

Yeah, this post is nothing like real life and I still kept it professional. lol. On to round two.

Until next time bloggers…