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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… 

The Unknown Known

How many times must a couple break up to make up, to make up and stay up? Today’s society, somehow, came up with this wack ass “no bullshit policy”. A perfect tale of some fairytale bullshit where the person you are looking to fall in love with has a perfect list that qualifies them to be with you. But, let’s be realistic here, everyone has taken some sort of tremendous dump at some point in their lives. Let’s also include the importance of having a bowel movement everyday. ijs And, of course, it is always up to your partner whether or not they stick around to get a whiff of the shit. We could either let your ass simply air out or we can Febreeze it…. OR, you could just take your shit elsewhere. But one things for certain, no one is entitled to walk around as if your shit doesn’t stink. If you’re not shittin’ out berries and blossoms, how do you expect for the next person to shit out berries and blossoms? Get my drift?

This untouchable empire withdraws us from being human. Building some gigantic fortress that no one can get over, limits us to a shallow, yet, deadly fall. From being a college grad, to how much money you make, down to, “how good is your credit”… are you shittin’ me?!! Really?!! With all of this being said, I concur simplicity in my life. Simplicity in my sleep, dreams, and present existence. I guess my question is, why is it so hard to get the minor things out of a maximum situation? Any type of relationship: parent/child, husband/wife, besties, siblings are hard work. We all know we are here and at this point for a reason. Within family equations, we all know it’s not a job where you are easily hired and fired. Sooooo….. should we not keep the same mindframe when dealing with relationships? Things get tough, bills pile up and money falls short. Promises aren’t being kept and agreeances swaps spit with the opposing team. The pages in the book are continuously being turned but no one is reading. The story is almost finished and we’re lagging behind still wondering how the plot thickens, but the irony of it all… I didn’t expect this to happen in this chapter. Huh? This is where you look up and realize, “well damn, what story was I reading this whole time”. Too busy trying to get to “the good part”, you missed out on the important. Then we have to go back a few pages to where we think we might have gotten lost. You may just have to gps this shit…

Now, let’s mix these ingredients. A cup of bullshit with the essence of, this person know me; or even, I know this person. And I do mean, KNOW. Some elegant aroma smothers the air with a sense of safety. Cursed with… I guess we’ll call it, compassion. Empathizing with your opponent. You’ve gathered more than enough background info: from childhood days to the present. I think the more fucked up matter of the moment is that, oddly, you understand. You take into consideration the notes you have gathered and apply that to the current. Although fumigated with denial, we place ourselves in an enabling position. So much, so that we KNOW that we have assisted in creating the manipulator. The smoke isn’t that damn thick. However, your ambitions have already exceeded far beyond the damage. It takes time to reach this point and by that point, you are in way too deep. Happy, with a case of sideways glance. Is this a trust issue? Or have we over-analyzed so much that we have numbed ourselves to the reality of it all? “Come on Candi, you worrying about nothin’!!” Another hit of novocaine, and we are back to the bliss. High on a dream.

Until next time bloggers…

God Has Spoiled Me

I know, I know… Don’t judge me. The randomness has got to stop. I haven’t even responded to comments and whatnots on past posts, which I do sincerely apologize for. But I had to squeeze in a few minutes to vent. And who better, than you guys.

So here is the deal… I’m back on my house rampage again. Not only that, But I have set this ultimate retarded goal of shit to get done within the next 2 years. Let me bring you guys up to date. I think this blog is about to turn into a rage of rantings over the next couple of months… maybe even years.

Let’s begin with the wack ass 2 year goal. SOOO… Pending “Official” and I are planning on getting married. We have a date set for July 4, 2015. Wedding is 2 years away (and some change), so I figured I would give myself some shit to get done either before or by that time. In just a 3 week time period, the wedding has moved from some random venue in a more metropolitan area here in NC (too expensive), to Jamaica (too expensive for everybody else), back to my family’s land here at home (now I have to figure out what the fuck am I going to do with 10 acres of country ass land). I’ve been rummaging through ideas of the attire for the groomsmen and bridesmaid and being as though, Official’s brother has departed, playing dressup with the fellas isn’t really all that fun. So, NOW, I’m playing with the idea of J.O.P and maybe a reception.

Ok… so that’s 2 years from now. Now, let’s rewind back to the present. I’m still waiting to hear back from “the job”. Apparently, State employees are trained to keep molasses up their asses and it takes forever (yes up to 2 months or so) just to hear back when your start date will be. Let me mind you, which could also be a month later because they want to start you at the beginning of your pay period. But, I’m no dummy, I have still been applying for other jobs. I didn’t take myself out of the game completely. So, with all of that being said, YES!… This is also in my 2 year goal; to get another job. And not just any old job. A decent paying-Mon-Fri-straight 9-5-with benefits having kind of job. Yes my dears. And where I’m from, NO job comes easy. Not even a job at Wal-Mart or McDonalds.

On to the next wack-a-doo thought process. Somewhere in the air, there has been these little voices rummaging around talking about “baby”. OMG!! really?!! Mainly, because Official wants to take his chances of trying for a boy. No, this is not a necessity. However, my calculations tell me that if I have a baby this year, that would put my daughter and the little one at 5 years apart just as she and my son are. And that would make my son 10 years apart from the youngest. 5 is like my lucky number or something (I guess), only because my son and daughter are 5 years apart (some bright idea). Anywho, you get where I’m going with this? Right!!! No fucking where!! LOL!! Ok.. on that note, bedroom gyratings have been rather careless (which they always have been, only without the guilt trip about the fact no one pulled out.. or got off?… whatever…). So, basically what I am really trying to do is hurry along my hiring process for A job (not just the one I’m waiting on now), so that if I am or do turn up preggo, I can have my foot in the door before they find out the damage I have done LMAO!!! Go ahead… call me crazy!! I swear I won’t get mad. And yes, we have a baby name. LOL!!

Sooooo, I get’s slapped in the face again with yet another house that is too perfect for words. The pricing is awesome! The location? Awesome! The size? AWESOME!!! Eveything about is … is… is just AWESOME!!! Credit is not an issue, so much as being prepared for a down payment just in case they ask. I have the number. The saler is just a phone call away. Actually, lives right down the street from my mom. All I have to do is pick up the phone and ask. But the rejection terrifies me. I have it right here, in finger dialing reach… and I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve been back to the website over 20 times, maybe more, just to stare at it’s walls and yard. Not to mention I have to ride pass there everyday to take and pick my son up from my mom’s after school. This makes Day 2 of it being on the market, and I am already having wet dreams about the house: me in it, me sitting on the porch, me doing yard work (you know this had to be a dream), me decorating. Then I awaken to pure disappointment… my shitty ass apartment! uuugghhhh!! My goal to buy a house, I wanted to reach before the end of this year; because the house-buying goal actually started last year.

And by the time, my 2 years is up, I will be living the Black Woman’s American Dream. I’ll have my house, my good job, with my complete circle of life; my children and a husband in my early 30’s. I’m not sure if I am completely insane to actually try my best to get all of these things complete before 2015 or if my blessing’s have been so farfetchingly huge, that God has really made a spoiled brat out of me. All I can do is thank him. And whether or not I get these crazy duties complete, I will definitely be back to update you on the latest.

Until next time bloggers….

Interview With The Deceased

When you are at work and you have nothing else better to do, you think. And you think some more, and you think until you become mentally drained. Considering the fact that, I’m a little exhausted with the current events that have been happening in my life, I couldn’t help but to run to this site. I wanted to examine these thoughts that I have running through my head… and interview the deceased.

I am a strong believer of the after life. But if you are that person, then it would also make someone wonder why do people still take death so hard. I believe in recognizing the signs given, dreams being had and the shit that just don’t happen by a coincidence. I am a believer in faith and the laws of attraction. But most importantly, I believe in God.

You see, if the saying goes as such, “you should cry at birth and rejoice at death”, then why is everything so ass backwards? I understand that we miss the people we love in the physical sense; but if you believe that their spirit is with you, then why does it still hurt so bad? What are we really hurting for? Is it the fear of the unknown? We say our loved ones are in a better place, and we truly believe this. But are we really that afraid of dying? So afraid of dying, that we can’t stand to see the other person go because we really don’t know where they are, what they are doing, or even what they may be going through. *even though we still believe that they are in a better place* How do they feel about all of this? Are they grieving? Whether or not there is still some sort of life left in them even after they have been buried? What does that feel like? Is this like a very deep sleep or does it feel like you are still alive and it’s just that no one can see you?

How was the transitioning process? Did you really see a light? Did you hurt at all from the way that you left here? Are we more emotional from the way that a person dies rather than the fact that they are dead? I have never met a person who could stand to see a loved one suffer, and it makes me sick (literally) just to think about something like that. Are we more hurt because we didn’t get to spend our last moments together? You see, had I known that it was going to be like this, I would have done this, this and this! Is death meant to set examples and teach us lessons here on Earth? And we all know that when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go. And there is no turning back. And even though we say it and preach it, do we really believe that God makes no mistakes?

I strongly believe that life sacrifices are, indeed, what they are proclaimed to be. We think the healing process is the struggle. But I feel that finding the answer to the question, why, is the real struggle. We want to know the real reason why someone had to leave, in the way that they had to leave, and at the time that they had to leave. We all fear the unknown. And what’s even more horrifying then that, is that we will never know until we leave to join our lost loved ones.

Until next time bloggers… R.I.Paradise Travis M. Hilliard

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….

Cold Feet

What is your idea of marriage? Would your expectations BEFORE making a vow to and before God still be the same after all is said and done? You did/want to get married for a reason, right? Or are we banking on POTENTIAL and expecting a lot more than what was being given before you decided to make the leap down the aisle? I’m sure that everyone has different expectations. BEFORE the numptials, you expect this, this and this? AFTER the numptials, we need to be doing this, this and that? and VOILA! Marriage is then fulfilled… o_O But out of everything, I honestly believe the only thing we can confirm is that everyone who is with someone chooses to be with that person because, apparently, that particular person makes them balanced (in some form, so to speak). Are you following me?

Everyday, I have a tendancy to analyze what my reasons are for wanting to be married. If and when I do, I wonder what statistic would I fall under come years ahead. Is it even safe to still wonder what the future would hold after I have committed myself? Isn’t that a sign of doubt? Or should I be feeling confident that these pondering moments should be the least of my worries? I got this in the bag or am I headed straight for a title of divorcee or will I be falling along the lines of that “ol school-shonuff-unbreakable” bond like they had back in the day. Y’know… G-ma and dem! Am I being lenient when it comes down to my standards? Maybe I’ve built up too much immunity and high tolerance for bullshit. Could I fulfill what is being expected of me? I have to admit, I can be a stubborn ass from time to time. That’s bitch-stubborn not baby-stubborn, there’s a difference. And with me knowing my flaws, could I ever align them to where I’m not feeling like I’m being backed into a corner, shadowed, embaressed and/or defeated? I like to save face (mine), and therefore I just don’t deal. <~ yes, this is my problem area, lol!

Advice, whether from married couples or even single people, can be rather confusing. You understand the point they may have made, but you also have to understand the position that YOU are in and whether or not you would like to apply that advice to your way of thinking and reacting. I would love to go into a union feeling safe. Knowing that “I” as in “me” no longer exist and is considered a more plural format. No matter what, my partner got me. I nor he has a thing to worry about because we already know what the other is thinking. You are probably thinking, “duuuhhh, that’s a given”. But believe me when I say that not everyone catches on to the “we“, not “I“, conversational format. Not everyone believes that the family they CHOSE to unionize with, are suppose to be the ones that become their first and main priority. Yeah they’re in love and blah blah, but let them have to pick and choose between movie night at home with wife and kids or a night at King of Diamonds with the fellas. Even I would choose the King of Diamonds, but I balance is key which means there is a time and place for everything. KOD tomorrow night. First things first… movie night it is. These are the things that scare me shitless. I can’t deal with being in second place when already handed the first place trophy. Sounds strange, doesn’t it? Caught up in a situation like this, just call me a runaway bride.

Friendships are far more of a necessity than most people think (IMO). I’m a little short-handed on said “friends”, so if you knew me personally, you would know exactly what I mean: loner/introvert. On top of that introduction, that still wouldn’t make you my friend *shrug* Sorry, it’s a trust thing. Anyways, a person could easily fix their mouth to say that so-and-so is my bestie. My first response would be, “really?!” Then I’m wondering what does a best friend consist of? If your best friend was of the appropriate gender to your liking, would you or could you marry them? There is a reason for this question, just give me a sec. In a perfect world, I’m sure that we would all want to marry a person that matches our persona, which most best friends usually fit a simple description of I would assume. Perfect example of match made in Heaven, right? So let me put this scenario out there to you because I’m feeling like I may have lost you somewhere: you meet someone, you get to know one another (however you see fit), you began to do things that most people don’t do in “couple form” (<~ made that up), you then become girlfriend and boyfriend or gf/gf or bf/bf (whatever floats your boat) Point is, nowhere in stating your new found title of “exclusivity” does anyone make claims of being best friends. Kind of makes me wonder… hmmmm…. Only because I’m looking forward to marrying my best friend. Am I asking for a lot yet?

In addition and also to conclude my random rantings, FYI, I hate materials in excess; excessive clothing, shoes. Excessive paperwork. I like to rid myself of any unnecessary wastes. Excessive stresses that I have a choice to live with or without, guess where it goes? Here we go, another problem area for myself. So ready and too quick to say “fuck it”. I can’t sign any type of paperwork with this mentality. Because if we rewind back through the expectations that I just stated in this blog, I’m finding that I may not even contain these same qualities because I’m not so sure as to exactly what it is that I am looking for to help me get over the trust factor. I mean… that would sum all of these other things up in a nutshell, right?

But yet, I’m looking forward to a Team “Us”. In a state of confusion, are we? o_O

Until next time bloggers…

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…