Diary of a small town Diva

How to remove permanent marker/ sharpie stains from wood furniture

2017-12-12T19:45:00.001-08:00

The other day Big Sister Z was drawing and coloring a picture for her cousin G. She asked me if she could use the red marker and I said yes without verifying which marker she was talking about. Turns out, it was a sharpie! The ink bled through the paper and seeped into my oak wood table. I couldn’t even be mad because I am the one who told her that she could use the sharpie. I immediately turned to Google to find out how to remove the marks from the table.

Sharpie/permanent marker stains

Google offered various solutions, but most of them did not work (Peroxide, soap and water).

Toothpaste on the stains

Before giving up, I saw a post that suggested using non-gel toothpaste to remove the stains. At that point, I had nothing to lose so I decided to try it. I used a generous amount of Aquafresh children’s toothpaste and rubbed it on the stain/marks. I used a washcloth and firmly rubbed the spot in circular motion. The stains came off immediately. If you have been wondering how to remove permanent marker/sharpie stains from wooden furniture, simply rub non-gel toothpaste and wipe with a wet rag.

Toothpaste on the stains

No more marks!

You can thank me later!

When they are quiet...

2017-10-02T19:05:00.000-07:00

When they are quiet, they are usually up to something. If you have children or have taken care of young children, you probably know what I am talking about. This is something that I have lived by and is always in the back of my mind, except for today. I learned this the hard way when I had to spend three hours cleaning bits of finely shredded Styrofoam from every inch of my living room. The girls wanted to have a winter wonderland and I was busy putting together some new end tables. They

Big Z knows they are in trouble, Little Z does not care!

asked me if “they could make it snow in the house” and I absentmindedly agreed. I learned never to just say “yes”. Yesterday I turned my back and discovered that baby Z had drawn and colored all over the kitchen floor while peacefully playing and gleefully singing “happy birthday to mama!” Big sister Z had finished using her markers and left them uncapped within reach of the baby. As I mopped the floor, I reminded myself that when they are quiet, they are usually up to something. Today was different. We had “the Vaseline incident”, but that was not major. The girls had decided that they needed to moisturize so they used the tub of Vaseline on my bathroom counter.

Today, I was a cleaning machine. I smiled proudly as I surveyed my accomplishment. Despite not feeling well, I had managed to clean the house and do a couple loads of laundry. Capitalizing on this new burst of energy, I decided to clean the bathroom (refer to the Vaseline incident). The girls were finally getting along and playing very well together. I gave them some books and a couple of toys to keep them occupied and immersed myself in cleaning the bathroom. Everything was good…too good. The house was quiet... too quiet. I snapped back to reality when I heard big sister yell “stop!” As I ran to the Livingroom I felt crunching under my feet, but I ignored it. As I entered the room, I was greeted by a sea of chocolate cheerios and Craisins wonderland. Every inch was covered with their concoction. They both realized I was standing there and proudly displayed their masterpiece. I faintly whispered “why?” With an innocent doe-eyed look, my oldest answered “We were hungry.” For the record, they had just finished eating lunch, so they were not hungry. Big Z knew they were in trouble, the implication of their action had not dawned on Little Z. “Look, mama!”

"We were hungry!"

she exclaimed. She scattered the mess even more pushing them further in all directions. I could not even get mad. I let out a chuckle as I plopped down on the floor beside them. Big Z realized that they were not in serious trouble since mommy was laughing and playing along. She relaxed and resumed working on her pile. Baby Z gleefully scattered the remining mixture of cheerios and craisins farther in to the Livingroom. I let them enjoy playing for a little bit, then we had a brief talk about why we should not waste food. They were more than happy to help me clean up the mess. Life with my little divas can be messy, but I’m so happy to witness the little things that brings them so much joy. Now I know, when they are quiet they are definitely up to something!

Seven Days Among Monarchs

2016-04-06T14:37:00.002-07:00

A while back I took a trip to Mexico. I spent seven glorious days at the exclusive El Dorado Royale. It was seven days in a manmade paradise. Although I refer to those who I encountered there as "monarchs" I use the term figuratively. I write this from an outside observer's point of view, admittedly if asked, many would not have perceived me to be different from my excessive self proclaimed monarch counterparts.

In this secluded island paradise, the masses flocked to frolic in the sun, to eat, drink and be pampered to their heart’s content. My first few days, this constant pampering and posturing of the staff impressed me. It wasn't until my very astute mate voiced his discomfort at having other individuals wait on him hand and foot that I became aware. With this awareness, I began to question my purpose and my very existence. The service was impressive, but I started to notice that most vacationers acted like they deserved to be treated like royalty. They wielded control over the staff with “tips”. One day I observed one of the patrons slip a member of the wait staff a crumbled note in an effort to entice him to contravene resort rules. After the staff member left, the patron looked at his companions and stated with a cocky grin, “tonight we are kings and queens!” I saw this theme repeated throughout the week.

Another time, my husband and I met a couple at the pool. Being with child, I dutifully sipped my smoothie as they downed their presumably delicious (and unlimited) alcoholic beverages. As the man drank more, the more he talked about himself, and his possessions. He talked about his expensive watch, his vehicles, his big house back in the United States and his various travel adventures. Just as I was about to lose interest he remembered that I am originally from Kenya. My ears perked up,

because this is a topic that I could talk about for days. At this time, his wife swam over and decided to chime in on our conversation. “Last year, we adopted from Africa.” At that moment my heart swelled, all was not lost. There was more to life than just accumulating riches, bragging rights and languishing in opulence in exotic locations. “Really?” I asked in disbelief (we had been talking for several hours and this was the first time she mentioned this). “Yes, we adopted a baby elephant.” My jaw almost hit the floor. After that statement, my mind shut off to most of what she said afterwards. I just know that she sends money every month to some part of Africa to give this one elephant a good life.

Throughout my stay, the phrase "is this all there is?" repeatedly echoed in the deep recess of my mind. Most of these people worked really hard to save for a lavish vacation. They just wanted the fact that they spent an inordinate amount of money to be recognized, and the resort catered to this mindset. Not every vacationer was like this, but the ones who were, overshadowed less boisterous. I watched the other vacationers as they enjoyed the luxurious amenities, half of them never acknowledging or even bothering to look the staff in the face. I was really perplexed because I did not want to the staff or anyone that I encountered to assume that I would also treat them in a gruff, entitled and callous manner. I felt guilty and ashamed to be associated with the excess. After voicing my complaint to my husband, we had a long talk. I finally realized that in life, I can’t control other people’s behavior, nor could I control how the staff perceived me. My only duty was to be kind and treat each of them with respect and dignity. Once I accepted this, I began to enjoy my vacation a lot more.

If you would like to adopt an elephant from Africa, simply click on this link to get to the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust.

The Zoey Chronicles: The yogurt incident

2015-02-16T06:00:00.000-08:00

My baby is a picky eater, so when I find something she likes to eat, I am excited. Lately, she has been on a yogurt kick. She has also been experimenting with using utensils. This morning hubby decided to give me a break. When Princess Z woke up this morning and alighted from the bed, he changed her

diaper and took her to the living room for yogurt and football. She ate a little and decided to play. The yogurt was set on the side table and soon forgotten. A few hours later, hubby stepped out to run errands. I languished on the couch enjoying having a stress free day. I decided to reply to some of the new year's text messages. Around the corner comes baby Z holding a plastic tumbler and a yogurt container.

It reminded me of this image------------>

The spoon was still stuck in the yogurt. The yogurt was on her face, her eyebrows and all sound her mouth. She proudly extended the spoon to me, her generous attempt at sharing. I simply smiled and encouraged her to eat some more. Each time she offered, I pretended to eat all the while cringing and trying not to be grossed out.

She was messy but happy. Kind of like life...messy but happy!

Written on 1/1/15

The Zoey Chronicles: Busy Bee

2015-02-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Busy Bee

I live with a little busy worker bee. She picks up and moves everything. She is vibrant and constantly moving, but not doing anything at all. The more independent she becomes, the more she moves stuff around, content to play by herself. Most of the time I don't mind. I am slowly learning to put those things that are essential out of her reach if I do not want to spend hours looking for them. There are times when it is inevitable. I have spent hours looking for her shoes ( I mean near tears) only to find them the next day in the cabinet under the sink. Keys, phones, cups...nothing is safe...nothing! She has a chest full of toys, but would rather play with pots, pans and flip flops. When she has something in her grasp that I don't want her to have, she can run away faster than Usain Bolt. She plays a mean game of hide-and-seek. By that I mean, she has learned to open and close doors as well as hiding in cabinets.

I learn something new each day.

Aldous Huxley once said,"experience teaches only the teachable", no truer words have ever been uttered!

1/3/15

The Zoey Chronicles: In the Trenches

2015-02-12T14:00:00.000-08:00

In life, we have to celebrate every victory. I wrote this entry after a particularly challenging day last month and wanted to share it with you...

It is 3:24 pm on New Year's Eve and I am just now sitting down to finish my morning cup of coffee. It is cold and bitter, but I don't care. I am still going to drink it and savor every last flavor I can glean from it. Mostly, I am just too lazy and too tired to go up four stairs to the kitchen to microwave it. Today, this week, this month, this year I have been in a battle. As I sit here in my one good chair wearing a t-shirt and grey sweat pants from yesterday, I survey my living room and can't help but grin. Whoever thought to call this space a living room knew exactly what my day has been like. This room has been lived in. Toys, puzzles, suitcases from last week, shoes, golf balls, mail from the last week, a random beer can and more toys litter my floor, tables and every space of the 300sq ft of my living room. I have piles/mountains of laundry that I have been scaling for the past two days. I can honestly say I see the end, but I am too scared to be optimistic about it lest the laundry fairy decides to dump another pile, so I claim my progress as a small victory.

For now, I am going to sit here in my good chair and smile. I have managed to do the impossible. I have put baby Z down for a nap. I had been trying to get her to nap since 1:00 pm. She was tired but kept fighting it. Finally, I had the ingenious idea to lay next to her in bed and side feed her until she became drowsy. Stealthily, I managed to swiftly switch the boob with a pacifier. Sensing the difference, she had clutched my shirt closer and draped a leg over me. I was trapped. I counted the minutes until I could escape her iron clutches. When her breathing got slow and even, I braced myself for the escape. Luckily I was taught the "stop,drop and roll" fire drill in elementary. As a mommy, I am the master of the Ninja roll. When the time came, I did a fast roll and flung myself off the bed to the hard floor. It hurt. I held my breath and tried to stay as still as I could. You could hear a pin drop. She made a slight move but continued to sleep. I slowly rose to my feet and stealthily shuffled out of the door.

Now I am here, in my good chair, sipping on my liquid black gold. I might be sore, but I managed to escape, so yeah, I will sit here in the battle torn cluttered living room and enjoy my cold coffee. I deserve it, because my achy elbows and knees have earned it. Today was another day of battle in the mommy world. If things go well in 8 and a half hours, I would have seen a new year and hopefully a turn in events. Right now, I am re-charging and reveling in the moment and I would not change a thing.

* As I neared the end of this entry, I heard the monitor crackle and baby Z's faint cries... Time for this mother to jump back in the trenches, exactly where I belong! Till next time!

written on 12/31/2014

The Library

2015-02-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

When I was a child, my family used to take me to the library. The library was a quiet solemn structure. It was peaceful and tranquil. There was only one rule which we had to abide by, everybody had to whisper. We could not use outside voices. Nowadays, people refuse to follow the rules at the library. I just assumed that it was well known that people are supposed to be quiet and respectful of others at the library... Not so much these days. I have been coming to the library daily and each time I have had to ask people to keep it down...each. damn. day! I just want peace and quiet. Every time I ask people to keep it down, they act like I am a horrible person.

Today was no different. I had a weird encounter with a lady at the library. She was in a private reading room. I was in a room adjacent to hers. She was on her cellphone for a long time, using her outside voice. I asked her to keep it down. She said she was not loud. Then, I politely told her she was, which is why I approached her. She retorted that she was not loud. So I informed her of the library's policy of no cell phones. She got angry and told me she was not loud. I informed her that I would report it if she refused to lower her voice. Then she told me that I would not report her. I replied that I would. She said I would not. I said I would. We went back and forth like that for awhile. At some point, I felt like I was in a twilight zone. It also occurred to me that I might be on Ashton Kutcher's Punk'd. When Ashton did not jump out from the shelves, I accepted my reality.

This random lady was really telling me that I would not report her to the librarian for talking on her cell phone. .. Sigh. I just can't deal with people sometimes. The price I pay for being a square peg trying to fit in a round hole of a world.

Written on 1/12/15

The Zoey Chronicles: Mine!

2015-02-07T06:00:00.000-08:00

Mine!

Little girl is growing and thriving. She is eating more and filling out. She is also starting to voice her concerns. Lately she has become obsessed with Caillou. She wants to watch Caillou all the damn time! She wakes up the first words out of her mouth are Caillou. She mumbles Caillou in her sleep. She has also started to become possessive. She will usually screech "mine" and come running around the corner to take whatever possession of her that you have commandeered. The good thing about this is, she only demands things that belong to her or that she had possession of first. Smart girl!

At this time Caillou, Mama and mine are her mantras!

2/7/2015

Growing pains

2015-02-06T06:00:00.000-08:00

Reflections

A few weeks ago, Baby Z and I left El Dorado and traveled to Houston. We have been here for more than a month and loving the change in our daily routine. Driving to Houston was another great undertaking, one that I had been dreading since my family called and asked me to come. This was my first time driving back to Houston since the accident. It went well. We made it safely.

Z loves it here. She has all the relatives wrapped around her finger. She is thriving and flourishing with each passing day. She is learning to count and meeting new friends. I am getting a much needed break and time to study. I haven't spent much time with her since we got here. I have to remember that I came here with a purpose and I am determined to stay on course. I have been to the library everyday and even though I miss my little rug rat, I know that she is safe, secure and being properly cred for. Every evening I come home and she jumps in my arms eager to show me what she has learned. She gives me hugs and kisses simply for being her mama. We snuggle watching one of her shows, then we Skype with her dad. Every time we Skype, she grabs the Ipad and kisses her dad. She may not understand everything we talk about, but she is always happy to chime in with a coo or a squeal, which makes our evening chats very fun.

Though my current situation is not ideal, I have it better than most people. I have to keep things in perspective. Right now it is raining on me and my house, but I know that sunny days are ahead. The good thing about being a Christian is knowing that when it rains, it rains the same. It rains on the just and unjust. I have to stand and let the torrents come. I can't pick and choose when to praise. The only thing I can hope for is a quietening of the mind and a peace in my heart. There has to be a time for tilling, turning the soil and pruning the vines in preparation for a season of planting. All the preparations, when done properly, yields a bountiful harvest. So, I stand. I endure. I persevere with God's help. Always remembering, not my will, but His Will.

1/7/15

The Zoey Chronicles: A day in the life

2015-01-30T06:00:00.000-08:00

Stay-at-home moms do a lot. It is an exhausting but extremely rewarding job. Many people glamorize it and some even fantasize about becoming one someday. There are days that the stars align and I become supermom. On those days, I accomplish every task on my list. Then there are those days...the days that nothing seem to work out. The days that I end up with oatmeal stains on my shirt and cereal stuck to my hair. On those days, I can walk around with my clothes inside out all day and not notice until bedtime. Those are the days that I live for. Those are the days that remind me that it is an arduous and wonderful process raising a tiny human being. Those are the days when I get to really know my little Diva. Those are the days that stick out in my mind. To give you a little insight into the life of a stay-at-home mommy, I kept a detailed account of a normal day. It was my first day back from being away from baby Z for three days. On that particular day, I felt like we were back to square one in figuring each other out after the separation. The following events took place on that day:

9:45 am the Diva/Princess wakes up in a great mood. She has learned to bravely get off the bed by scooting to the edge, turning sideways and lowering herself to the ground. This requires holding up her entire body weight by gripping the sheets or bedding. Should her fingers fail or her strength wane, she lands on her butt, but this is a risk she is willing to take every damn time. This morning, she followed in the shoes of Kerri Scruggs and executed a perfect landing. She is ready for a diaper change. I meet her at the door and walk the few steps to her room. She goes to the changing table and attempts to help me by trying to climb up, I catch her just in time. I change her diaper and she leads me to the guest room to free her fur brother and sister from their kennel Prison.

10:00 am I give her apple juice (juice box) and a slice of bread with peanut butter and strawberry jelly. I turn my back to put a load of laundry in the washer. She is exceptionally quiet so I go check on her. She is on the floor completely covered in Apple juice ala the girl in flash dance. She doesn't seem to care. She has found a sock and is happily attempting to wipe up the juice. Lesson learned, babies who bathe in apple juice become sticky and smell like sugary apples. A complete wipe down and change of clothes are in order.

11:30 am We bundle up to take the fur babies to potty and go to the mailbox. I fail to notice that I had not put her shoes back on after the wipe down. Baby Z takes off running on the wet and muddy grass trying to crunch leaves. Despite repeated pleas she refuses to come back inside. She takes off running towards the woods, I am forced to book it after her in my house shoes clutching a dog leash. The walk to the mailbox is abandoned. A change of socks is in order...now what did I do with her shoes?

12:00 pm I walk up the 4 stairs to take a laundry basket of clean clothes to baby Z's room while she was downstairs distracted by a particularly arresting episode of Caillou. I had a window of less than 2 minutes to grab the clothes from the hamper and hurriedly hang them in her closet (I planned on arranging them at a later time). I hear "uh-oh!" I run into the kitchen to find baby Z making it rain with the dog food. I can't complain; I am the one who left the baby gate open. I distract her by giving her a lid top. I grab the broom and dust pan and clean up the dog food that had been showered on the kitchen floor.

12:30 pm it's time to feed baby Z. I warm up and dice meatballs for her. She is hungry and ready to eat. I put a row of meatballs, Mac n cheese, and vegetables on her high chair tray. She is content to eat and watch Sprout for about an hour. I manage to hang and fold an insane amount of laundry. When she is finally finished, she is covered in food and marinara sauce...everything is covered in bits of food and marinara. My daughter decided to wear her food. She innocently looks at me, raises her arms towards me and utters "mama!" My heart melts. My world is complete. Another wipe down and a change of clothes is in order.

1:45 pm I go to the bathroom. She is being entertained by the magazine bucket in the corner. Just as I get comfy, she takes her shoes and throws them in the tub. She then reaches over and attempts to turn on the water. Those shoes...those stupid pesky shoes...those damn pesky shoes. I had not put them on her after the last wipe down. Any attempts at using the bathroom have been successfully thwarted.

2:00-4:00 pm I put up toys in her toy chest and she pulls them out. Notice I have not mentioned nap time...that is because she has decided to give nap time the middle finger...unless she is gnawing on the boob. She gets in about 15 minutes but after about 3 hours of trying to get her to nap, I throw in the towel. I'm done.

45 minutes later, I hear tires coming up the driveway. It's "dada!", he is home. Z-baby squeals and runs to the door. He surveys the mountain of laundry and the clutter of toys in the living room. Instead of saying what is obvious, what is really on his mind, My husband picks up Z baby, leans over and gives me a kiss. With an amused smile he says, "looks like you guys did a lot of laundry today, good job!" Instantly my spirits are lifted...today was a good day.

If you ever want to have a stay-at-home-mom experience, come and spend a day with baby Z and I. I promise, it will be a hectic, fun filled adventure!

Originally written on 12/30/14

Similac highlights "mommy wars" in a heartwarming video

2015-01-29T15:39:00.002-08:00

The world is full of people with varying ideas and perspectives. One group may love something, while another may hate it. Last week Similac, a formula manufacturing company posted an ad, about the well known "mommy wars," that often start feuds due to differing styles of parenting. The video was obviously a parody, meant to highlight the outrageous differences and sects that parents encounter. Featured were; the formula feeders; the breast is best squad; the cloth diaper patrol; the crunchy yoga parents; the working moms; same sex parents; the baby wearing daddies and mamas and many more. A gamut of parenting styles were represented. While the groups were feuding, a stroller rolls down hill and everyone is forced to unite for the sake of saving a little one in peril (tears were shed).

When the video aired, the internet lost its damn mind! Some people raved and gushed about the video, while others expressed extreme dislike for the message and the company that produced the video. Some bloggers felt that Similac was using parent's emotions to push their agenda by "normalizing" formula feeding. Some feminists shunned the focus on the subject of breasts by the males in the video. A few mommies did not like the fact that the breastfeeding mommies had to wear huge hideous covers. Some males were offended that the Ad while featuring males, welcomes parents into the "sisterhood". The video brought up many important issues up for discussion. Many people have gone to Similac's facebook page to weigh in.

I found the video funny and sweet. The message was positive and uplifting. We may do things differently, but in the end, we are in this together. We should all work together for the purpose of caring for our little ones. I might be a bit sentimental, so I will let you judge for yourself. Perhaps, you may find your parenting style depicted in one groups in the video.

If you are curious as to what the uproar is all about, click below to see the advertisement.

I do not own any rights to the pictures or video displayed on this page.

2015

2015-01-27T10:12:00.001-08:00

2015 is here and I am feeling extremely hopeful! There are so many things that I would like to accomplish. I feel like I have been given a new beginning, a fresh start. A reset button has been pressed and I am ready to set out on bold adventures. I can't wait to create opportunities where there were only set-backs. I am brimming at the chance to walk freely into my destiny and eliminate existing barriers. I leave my failed endeavors in 2014 and venture into more attempts in 2015. I may not get there this year, but I will have the satisfaction of knowing that I have another chance at working on my areas of opportunities. I can't wait to see what new surprises are around the bend. I have made my resolutions, goals and plans for this year.

By now, I have learned to expect detours and delays in life.

I am willing to be more flexible, more patient and to live in the moment. After all, it's not how fast I get to my destination, it's the experiences along the way that will shape my feelings and perceptions when I finally reach my destination. In 2015, I will set forth my plans and simply be "in the moment".

Divas and Divos, let us begin 2015 by moving onward and upward!

"...And so, lifting as we climb, onward and upward we go, struggling and striving, and hoping that the buds and blossoms of our desires will burst into glorious fruition ere long. With courage, born of success achieved in the past, with a keen sense of the responsibility which we shall continue to assume, we look forward to a future large with promise and hope..." Mary Church Terrell

The Adventures of motherhood

2014-07-27T17:35:00.000-07:00

I closed my eyes and when I opened them, my helpless infant who did nothing but eat, sleep and cry had become a strong willed and determined little girl, who chased and tormented our two little yorkies with her walker. It’s been nine short months since the addition of baby Z (aka baby Diva) to our family and we could not be any happier. She has added an element of fun and adventure to our family that we did not know was missing but have become accustomed to.

In the weeks that I spent at the hospital, I had limited contact with her. I worried that she would not remember me or that she would not know that I was her mommy. In the hospital, my most vivid memories of her were as a tiny helpless baby, just starting to discover the world around her.

Baby Z and I before our separation
photo courtesy of Mister Lule Photography

Upon my discharge from the hospital, I came home to an active and spunky little girl who instantly recognized me as her mommy.

Just when I thought that I had this mommy thing down to a science, little Z manages to switch everything up. Her personality is a perfect blend of her mommy and daddy. She has been guilty of giving people the side-eye (which everyone accuses me of) since the day she was born. Just like her father, nothing can deter her when she has her mind set on doing something. This little girl is a smart, stubborn, free-spirited firecracker. I never knew anyone could bring me such joy but she shows me a different side of love with each passing day. I enjoy seeing her personality develop. I love to hear her laugh. Her smile melts my heart and can brighten even the darkest of days.

Reunited and it feels so good!

I have accepted the fact that I am not the perfect mother. I try to be the best mother that I can be. I am her mother, and I am exactly who God chose to love, comfort, protect and teach her. Motherhood keeps me looking around the bend for more adventures to come!

On Bereavement

2014-05-20T19:19:00.000-07:00

“Don't go far off, not even for a day, because,

I don't know how to say it - a day is long and

I will be waiting for you,

as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour…”

– Pablo Neruda

“What is wrong?” She asked me with trepidation in her voice. Perhaps it was the distraught look on my face or the pool of tears that instantly welled up in my eyes. Either way, she knew that I had just received some bad news. I struggled to hold it in, to reign in my emotions, afraid that if I let myself cry, I would never stop. I got off the phone with my husband and pulled myself up to a sitting position in my hospital bed. “My grandmother!” I exclaimed through bouts of broken breaths. I did not need to say more; she understood. She came over to where I sat and gave me a hug. She enveloped me, and I simply clung on. I managed to calm myself down and when I was ready, she sat with me. My only grandmother was gone… Dani, my direct connection to my roots, was. no. more. Reality refused to sink in. I started to bargain with God. Lord, if you only let it not be true then I will do whatever you need. I got angry. Why would this happen to our family, especially at a time like this? I even experienced hope. I expected my phone to ring anytime and for me to hear that everyone was mistaken, that she was alive and well…the phone never rang.

All the regrets and wasted time flooded my mind. I knew she was old, but she had always been there, a permanent fixture. Dani was always there as long as I could remember, she always looked the same, never changing, never looking old, but still old because of the passage of time. I cursed time. I cursed the distance, and I cursed my inability to do anything meaningful. I felt powerless. She never met my husband; she never met my daughter; I never said goodbye. My friend sat there and simply listened. She knew because she had also lost her beloved grandmother. In the hours to come, my friend and I talked about our grandmothers. She showed me a picture of her beautiful and regal looking grandmother. We celebrated their lives through our memories. By the time she left my hospital room, I was calm and ready to face my reality. Then the night came and with it. My memories and sadness resurfaced. I cried all night and the next day, and the next. The nurses who came to my room reassured me that all would be alright. I could tell they wanted to do more, but felt powerless. Sometimes I smiled, sometimes I cried. They did not interrupt, they just let me be, and let me know that they were there if I needed anything.

Grief is a strange beast. The stages are random and they can occur at anytime. If you are reading this entry hoping for wisdom and insight, I am sorry, there is none from me. I just needed to see my thoughts written on paper, to make sense of and cement my loss. I have to accept and believe that things will work out. We each have a purpose to fulfill in this life, and my Dani had simply fulfilled her life’s journey. She may not have lived a lavish and lush life, but she lived a long time. A child of the 20’s in the harsh conditions of Africa, she lived through some things. My hope is that she has found her way through the maze of eternal life. I look forward to being reunited with her when God calls me home, then perhaps I would be able to tell her all that I wanted to say. As for me, my heart is still broken and I am still patiently waiting for acceptance.

Rest in Love Getruda Kipande Okello, my Dani. Until we meet again.

Olorun mi, gba adura mi (My God, hear my prayer)

When you take all the ones we love

We’ll carry on and it won’t be long

I pray to be strong

Olorun mi, gba adura mi (My God, hear my prayer)

-Tiwa Savage

McDonald's needs a change...ing table

2014-01-01T19:51:00.002-08:00

Apparently a lot of things go on in the Athens Texas McDonald’s bathroom floor and changing babies happen to be on that list! While traveling from Austin Texas with our newborn (Baby Diva), my husband and I found ourselves passing through the huge metropolis of Athens Texas (population 12,846). We decided to stop, eat, change and feed the baby. The Golden Arches of the small town McDonald’s beckoned. Our decision was cemented by the fact that this particular McDonald's had a huge play area (think slides and ball pit). Surely a kid friendly place like that would have a changing table...right? WRONG! I apprehensively went to the bathroom to change my little one (Even though I have a small portable changing pad that I put on top of the changing stations, I hate using the changing stations in public areas.) It was too cold to attempt to change Baby Diva in our cramped car. I went to both restrooms and could not find the changing station. Fearing that I was missing something, I flagged down an employee who was sweeping the floors outside of the restrooms. I asked her where the changing stations were and her answer left my jaws agape. With a straight face she answered, that they did not have any but mothers usually change their babies on the restroom floor... Yes, you read that right...the restroom floor...WHAT THE HELL McDonald's! You can afford to have an intricate and obviously expensive indoor playground, but no changing table! Where do they do that at? (Yes, I know that I just ended this sentence with a preposition, but the tomfoolery warranted it). If no changing table, how about a small table? Common sense would dictate that any establishment that purports to cater to children should have something as simple as that. Parents and customers who frequent the establishment should demand a changing station instead of changing their babies on the germ infested restroom floor. I am still shaking my head at the entire experience. McDonald's in Athens Texas gets a huge side-eye from me.

What are you posting on your wall?

2013-08-22T15:37:00.004-07:00

A few months ago, I read about a guy who took a picture of a total stranger at an Airport and posted it on his twitter account. He did this in hopes of making fun of this unsuspecting woman and having his followers join in. Somehow the twitter sphere became abuzz by the picture and word got back to the woman that she was a victim of an ill executed public shaming. Instead of responding with anger, the young lady responded with poise and the twit pic poster ended up profusely apologetic. (Click here for the full story).

Lately, I have seen the same tomfoolery on my Facebook timeline. The practice of people taking pictures of unsuspecting individuals and posting it on their wall for sport has become prevalent. I have thought about it and I just can’t see how any mature adult would think this is acceptable. I consider it a breach of a total stranger’s privacy. More importantly I just think it is mean! I am not perfect (Gasp! Shocking, I know) and I would hate for someone to snap a photo of me at my worst and post it on the internet for the pure entertainment of others.

I also think this practice sends a really bad message to our youth (some of the people doing this are parents!!!!). At a time when our young children are struggling with cyber bullying and committing suicide because of Facebook, twitter, instagram and the like, we as adults should be setting an example for the youth. The story above ended in redemption, Amanda Todd’s story ended in tragedy. The 15 year old posted a cry for help on YouTube then committed suicide. Some people posted some really mean things on her Facebook wall. (Read the full story here). You never know what obstacles and barriers people are facing. I urge my readers to consider the motivation behind the act prior to sharing something mean on their social media.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for freedom of speech and freedom of expression. In a small town like El Dorado, anything posted on Facebook or any other social media outlet is sure to reach a multitude of people. Cafe owner faces backlash after posting picture on Facebook.

Here is a gospel song telling you to "keep your business off of Facebook!"

Beloved, we are all strangers on this journey we call life. Let’s band together and be accountable to each other, perhaps that act alone can make this trek a little easier. If you ever see me do something that harms my brothers and sisters, please feel free to let me know ever so gently. In return, I promise to be cognizant of what I post on my social media accounts.

Until then, hugs and kisses!

True Story, I was pregnancy shamed

2013-08-12T19:09:00.001-07:00

This past weekend I was pregnancy shamed. Allow me to explain. You may have heard of slut shaming or fat shaming, but rarely do you ever hear of people saying they were pregnancy shamed. Hubby and I went to Houston this past weekend for a baby shower. It was indeed a most enjoyable event! The last guest departed the baby shower at 1:00 am! Yes, I am a party animal.

My day started out normally, as any other day. I got up, ate an emergency breakfast (emergency because ever since I got pregnant, I have to have something in my stomach or else this baby becomes a monster). After eating breakfast and talking to some of my family members, I went upstairs to take a shower and get ready to hit the road back to Arkansas. It was extremely hot, so I picked a maternity dress that was a light and stretchy material. My stomach has gotten bigger so the material accentuated and clung to my stomach. This is the one feature that I liked about the dress because it allowed me to show the evidence of my soon to be baby Diva. I met my little sister and she complimented me on the dress; it made me smile. As I made my way down the stairs, I became aware of the distressed looks I was getting from some of my relatives. The incessant chatter ceased and the room fell quiet. I felt weird but thought I was being paranoid. I made a mental note of how I had checked and double checked my appearance before going down the stairs. So why the weird vibe? At last, one brave soul ventured out to tell me they thought it was best to go back upstairs and change. I asked if she could see my underwear or if the dress was too short. She said no, but that the dress was not appropriate for me to wear. One of her cohorts further explained that the dress would be good for someone who did not have curves, someone tall and slender. She also stated that the dress made me look more compact. I was not satisfied with this explanation. My older sister piped up and asked me to turn sideways because she wanted to see baby Diva in her full glory. She did not seem to have a problem with my outfit.

Hubby loaded the truck and we got ready to speed off to the redneck highway (remote windy two lane roads) to our beloved El Dorado. As we approached the truck my relatives kept pressuring me to go change prior to my departure. I finally asked why they found this dress so offensive. Finally, one of my shamers stated, “well, the dress would not look so bad if your stomach was not so big...you know if your stomach was smaller.” After picking my jaw off the floor, I mounted the waiting truck and sped off.

Dear reader: I. AM. PREGNANT! Yes, my stomach is big…like a mini beach ball or a round, smooth extra-large bowling ball. It is big and round, like a perfectly shaped dome. It is also beautiful and exquisite; it is carrying life! I could not help but wonder why two women who have had children (emphasis on CHILDREN) felt it was ok to shame another woman because of her glorious pregnant belly. I wasn’t being told to change because my outfit was too provocative, but because of my protruding belly. My big pregnant belly was making them uncomfortable. As our truck carried us up home, I wondered, how can a pregnant woman make her stomach less conspicuous? Should I wear Moo-Moo’s for the rest of the pregnancy? I wistfully turned to my hubby and asked him if he thought I should cease wearing the offending number. He lovingly looked at me and smiled. Then he reassuringly answered, “no babe, your outfit is great, you look beautiful.” With a huge grin on my face, I turned and looked out the window to watch the trees pass in a blur and make our way a little closer to Arkansas.

Slut shaming, fat shaming and now pregnancy shaming, what has the world come to?

Have you ever been shamed?

What I have learned; Lessons for Everyday Self-Improvement

2013-08-08T15:46:00.001-07:00

Two years ago, I attended a self-improvement seminar in Little Rock. Upon my return to work, my boss asked me what I learned. At first I was taken aback because I had not stopped to evaluate whether I had learned anything. It was fortunate that I actually paid attention and took notes. I promptly typed up the wisdom that I had gleaned from the team of speakers. In retrospect, I realize that the messages and wisdom spouted by the big name presenters applied to everyone, young and old.

Living in a small town, I have not had many more opportunities to attend more self-improvement seminars. What I learned was too good not to share, so I have posted the highlights below.

Lou Holtz:

Three rules for a meaningful relationship:

1. Do what is right and people will trust you

2. Do everything to the best of your ability

3. Show people that you care

Three questions that people will ask you:

1. Can I trust you?

2. Are you committed to excellence?

3. Do you care about me?

Things to keep in mind:

1. Make good choices

2. Know what dreams you have

3. Evaluate the past success and focus on the future

4. Don’t let other dictate your attitude

Collin Powell:

1. Have a sense of purpose

2. Be passionate about what you are doing

3. Demonstrate moral and physical courage

4. Take care of your employees and coworkers

5. “Invest in your words”

6. Compliment people and give credit where credit is due

7. Create connections

8. Recognize when work is not being done

Bill Cosby:

1. What is your personal best?

2. Help yourself, don’t wait for others to help you.

3. No matter how big the task or challenge, start small and you will succeed.

4. Always take responsibility

Terry Bradshaw:

1. Be thankful for your life

2. Happy people are aware of what they are capable of doing

3. Smile

4. Keep things in perspective

5. Understand who you are

6. Know what you want

7. Don’t waste your life, it’s too short, tap into what you want

8. You need people to fulfill your vision.

My dear sweet readers, what have you learned lately?

Back and Bigger than ever!

2013-07-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

Hey Lovies! I have been gone for a while, but I am so glad to be back. A lot has taken place since my last post. Well, I won’t beat around the bush, the hubby and I have some news…we will be welcoming a new addition to our family in October! We are all excited, including our two furbabies (they know they are about to get a new baby sister).

Folks, I can’t lie, it’s been quite an adventure since finding out that we are expecting. At first I felt like...

and then I felt like…

Morning sickness and all day sickness had me down y’all! All I could do was...

After about 19 weeks, I started feel a whole lot better!Today, I feel like a million bucks.

Hubby and I are busy getting ready for the little one and we are tickled pink! We are looking forward to playing with and holding our little pumpkin.

To all the mommies and mommies to be, I give you mad props! I underestimated how difficult the journey to motherhood would be. To all the daddies and daddies to be, way to support your significant other as she experiences the sometimes crazy roller coaster of motherhood!

XOXO #NOTSOSMALLtowndiva

Valentine's Tribute...

2013-02-14T15:03:00.000-08:00

On this day…

To my lover, personal poet, cheerleader, protector, defender, lawyer and confidant, my best friend. On this day you took my hand and placed a ring on it. You asked me to continue this journey with you. With tear stained eyes and a brimming heart I gladly said yes. A year later on this month our friends and family joined us as we celebrated the beginning of our new life together. Never did I imagine what a wonderful, exquisite and exhilarating journey this would be. Happy Valentine’s Day, my sweet love!

Genesis 2:18 The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."

On love...

This month marks the two year mark in our marriage. We have learned so much about each other and are discovering new things everyday these two years. In him, I have found all that I was missing and desperately searching for (friend, lover, companion, teacher and confidant). It is amazing when someone allows you to see their soul and even more amazing when they dedicate their life to you. Although life in a small town can be difficult, it makes it easier when I look in his eyes and see the promise the future holds. I admire his attempts to make this place my home and I am working to show him that his heart is my home. Wherever he goes, there shall my home be. I think both of us are far better people married than when we were single. I may have hated law school, but now I know God had plans far bigger than the one I had. I am honored to be his companion and help-meet.

To all my readers, from my heart to yours..
Whether you are single, dating, engaged, in a committed partnership or married...Happy Valentine's Day!

Wedding photos are courtesy of the fabulous Steely Joe Studio Photography and Benfield Photography

Rumble in the Lipstick Jungle: The Reality of Bullying

2013-01-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

It’s been several years, but I can remember it as though it was yesterday. I remember the frenzied looks on their faces, the barrage of yelling voices and the veins straining from their contorted faces and necks. I was alone, with my back against the wall. I scanned the maze of the faces and tried to find a solution of how to escape this estrogen filled jungle. To escape the hurtful words, the faces red with anger, the beautiful women made ugly by their words, actions and behavior. All I could think was: “Don’t let them see you cry. You have survived worse; you will navigate this densely populated female infested lipstick jungle. Don’t cry now, you will have time for that later.” So I stood my ground and let them sink me deeper into the quicksand. I prayed for the floor to open up and swallow me as they descended upon me. I was hurt that no one stood up for me. I pleaded with my eyes for someone, anyone to step up and say enough was enough. I looked at the other girls and realized they were just relived to not be on the receiving end of the barrage of verbal abuse. A simple Weekend afternoon meeting, turned into a full blown afternoon of terror and all I could do was remind myself that this too shall pass. As soon as I left the room the dam broke and I cried for three full days. My only vindication was that they never saw me cry. How could the people that I wanted to bond with tear me to pieces?

Fast forward to the present and the feelings have been brought back to surface. I watched the Basketball Wives Tahiti vacation fiasco and my eyes welled up with tears. I saw the puffy tear stained face of Kesha and my wounds were fresh again. Grown women tearing other grown women down for sport and pure entertainment value, what a sad concept. I kept watching, hoping that one of the women would stand up for the attacked. I kept hoping that this fragile and soft spoken woman would get a chance that I never had, but just like me, she was not so lucky. I cried as her bully took her personal effects and rendered her helpless. I once read somewhere that “The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who, in times of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality.” What happened to lifting each other up? As I continued to watch the episode, my heartbreak continued…one down, two more to go. Spies spreading slanderous gossip, bullies spewing venom and those who had the ability to stop the attack became spectators of the hunt. Three women seeking acceptance but were destined not to find solace because they became the hunted.

Bullying is real and many grown women have fallen victim to it. It has nothing to do with having a low self-esteem; it has nothing to do with being weak. Some people prefer to avoid confrontation; others prefer to solve their conflicts peaceably; others simply are not good at physical fights. I fall into all these categories. It did not make me a lesser woman then and it does not make me any lesser of a woman now. I prefer to adhere to certain tenants and resolve my issues in a different manner.

That experience set forth how I interact with other women, how I choose my friends and how I approach potentially explosive situations. That experience influenced my career choice. I enrolled in law school to advocate for those who have been down trodden and bullied by those who perceive them as weak. I accepted my current position to secure the rights of those experiencing verbal, emotional and physical abuse.

Although I know they cannot hurt me anymore, their words buried deep in the recess of my young adult life still manage to creep in my mind at various intervals. At those times, I remind myself that I handled myself with grace and poise. I still wonder if my tormentors ever feel remorse for what transpired that afternoon. Even if you have never been on the receiving end of adult bullying, women, men and children across the world should decide that enough is enough. Bullying can and has ruined lives; both grown-ups and children have committed suicide due to bullying. If you or someone you know is being bullied please know that help is out there.

Have you been on the receiving end of bullying? If so, what was the end result?

Women of a Certain Age

2012-12-13T20:32:00.000-08:00

I recently celebrated a birthday and I find myself constantly thinking back to my younger years. Of those years the only words that I can use to describe myself are bold, adventurous and brave. Funny enough, it is those times that I prayed the most for boldness! As I get older, I have become more mild and calculated in my decisions.

I had the occasion to visit with a fairly new friend. We laughed and squealed with glee as we talked about our undergraduate years. We bonded over our desires to make a mark on this world. We also bonded over our desire to create a household conducive to having an orderly family life. Though she was a few years my junior, I listened to her concerns and marveled at how similar our plight were. I realized that we were women of a certain age. Our priorities had shifted with time. We were shells of our former naïve selves, and even though we relished our youthful times, we did not mind the grace and dignity that time and age had afforded us. You can recognize women of a certain age because they are endowed with the wisdom to appreciate their past (the good and the bad). Women of a certain age have the ability to look back at their experiences and realize that more experiences and lessons will come.

As I left the gathering, I realized that though at times I lament the passing of my youth, I continue to hold on to the opportunities that being a woman of a certain age has afforded me! To all Divas and Divos of “a certain age” out there, relish and treasure your time. Live and be in the moment!

Happy Jamhuri Day!

2012-12-12T18:01:00.003-08:00

Today, my beloved Kenya celebrates

Jamhuri day. December 12 marks Kenya's independence from Great Britain in 1963. Kenya has had 49 years of independence! This tough journey is being celebrated and commemorated by various agencies worldwide.

Check out Google’s tributeà

Also check out Jackstone Ambuka's

Tribute to Kenya on Jamhuri day.

Though I am not there, I am celebrating my roots and humble beginning by honoring those who fought for me to be able to live and travel freely.

Today, I celebrate frrreeeeeedooooom!(in my Braveheart voice).

I wish everyone in Kenya and abroad a happy Jamhuri day!

In true Kenyan fashion, I celebrate and toast this occasion while sipping a cup of piping hot Kenyan tea!

I leave you with the Kenyan national anthem.

Happy Jamhuri day!

On Singleness

2012-12-08T15:53:00.000-08:00

Here is another honest and insightful guest post by the Sophisticated Socialite on the subject of being single. I hope that this raw and interesting entry speaks to the heart of my single readers. It is simply not enough to be a “Diva or Divo in waiting”, live, love and make memories even as a single person. - PD

On Singleness

A guest post by The Sophisticated Socialite

Being single has its perks and its not so perky moments. I, like everyone else would love to meet the right person and start a new chapter in my life. What I have learned in my extended time of singlehood is that good things take time. So what’s the rush? Well, there’s peer pressure, family pressure and we can’t forget about the ever so faithful media pressure. All these things combined can be draining every now and then on single Divas and Divos.

Personally, the message I get from all these mediums of pressure is that my life will become complete once I have found the “one”. Though this is a very romantic way of looking at life, I have come to think otherwise. In my time as a single woman, I have been lucky enough to be surrounded by many accomplished women, most of whom are members of my family. All of these beautiful, successful women achieved high levels of success and reached their goals before they tied the knot. This brought me to the revelation that being single frees me up to do just that…go after my dreams. For me, being single means the freedom to do, be, live and chase whatever it is that I need to at the moment. I have started to pursue my passion of cooking, taking guitar lessons and even enrolling in martial arts classes. Singleness has afforded me the opportunity to serve God in the way that He intended for me to serve Him…right now.

No worries my Lovies, I do not plan to be the spinster sister with twenty cats. I will patiently wait for my big beginning. You know, the moment in the story of my life when I bump into Mr. Right at the grocery store, a bookstore or while buying my late night coffee fix at Starbucks. I can wait because I will enjoy this time to become more like the person I eventually want to meet. To all the single Divas and Divos waiting for that special one, learn to live and LOVE yourself before you can expect someone else to live with and love you!

XOXO,

The Sophisticated Socialite

Are you a Diva or Divo in waiting? What are some of the positive things about being single?

Birthday post!

2012-12-02T10:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I celebrated another year in this world. It was my birthday and it was epic! I got everything that I wanted and could hope for. I have my health, family and wonderful friends. Hubby surprised me with two dozen roses!

A friend of mine also gave my hubby and me two tickets to the Symphony. It was nice to be able to dress up from a grownup night on the town. In honor of my birthday, I decided to let loose. I ate ice-cream, pizza, cupcakes and veggie burgers galore! You know what? I only gained one pound (shhh, don’t tell anyone, it was just one day). I also had tons of warm wishes from friends and family alike. It was a great day. I hope this is an indication of the great things to come. I am truly grateful for another year to hopefully achieve my God given purpose on this earth. To all my December babies, Divas & Divos, happy Birthday! May God bless you with many more years and blissful experiences. As for me, I can’t complain!