The Boy is Lazy AF and I May Just Punch Him Square In The Jaw

zvIzRRH.gifMy son is Lazy AF. Like typical teenage rolls his eyes in the back of his head when you ask him to do anything outside of his wheelhouse:laying down, eating, playing on his phone; lazy. As a parent I don’t know how to combat this.
At least without slapping him into another ethnicity and ending up in prison and I’m way too cute for prison.

I’ve tried to build him up and pour into him his greatness. I’ve tried to appeal to his sensibilities. I’ve tried to ask for his assistance as his mother. I’ve even tried guilt, yelling, cajoling, and a bunch of other shit that I’m not proud of, but as I write this I’ve just finished yelling at him about being a lazy ass who wants to lay around the house every weekend. Again I’m not proud but I’m fearful. Fearful that this laziness is going to follow him through his life.

images.jpeg

How my child prefers to spend his free time. 

Fearful that he won’t go to college, or trade school, or build his own business. That he’s destined to be a couch surfer floating from place to place building robots in the freetime he has from whatever menial ass job he has at the moment. Fearful that I will lose my cool and punch him square in the face. *slightly kidding*

I know, I know, he’s only 14 but I worry that he doesn’t have it in him to work two times harder, be two times smarter than his white contemporaries. That because we have a little bit of money and have placed him into a school with wealthy children, he thinks he’s on equal footing with his peers. That he will be so fucked when he has to face the real world and since he’s only 14  he only has a few years left to get his shit together before life smacks him in the face and shocks the false sense of affluenza out of him. Because unlike his lazy schoolmates who will end up being mediocre, running companies give to them by their parents, even if we were to still have our companies as he gets to the age when he could run them, we CAN’T afford to have mediocrity running our businesses.

I don’t want to get too down on him. I realize that he’s a good kid. A great kid; funny, smart, caring, and loving. He’ll give you the shirt off of his back (if you really needed it) BUT he is also LAZZZZZZZYYYYY AF! Currently he is laying in bed with a headache solely because I am in the living room and he CAN’T lay in here in front of the TV. As opposed to going to work and making money for the many things he wants, or going to hang out with his friends, or even just building something in the shed, or doing ANYTHING. Laying around the house is what he prefers to do at every opportunity.

images.png

I’m trying to get him to understand that a good personality only goes so far. Especially for black boys. Hell, good black boys are being killed by police everyday. Jordan Edwards who recently died was only a few months older than he is.  I joke about punching him because I honestly don’t know what else to do and I worry so much for him. That he could face something as horrible as being killed by the police or that he can end up a lazy bum sleeping on his grandma’s sofa (since he gotta get the hell up outta here as soon as he graduates if he has no further plans for his life) or spend his days driving some smart girl crazy as she takes over trying to pull him forward into the life of greatness which I have been desperately attempting to push him into.

I know that I can not want more for him than he wants for himself and lately I don’t have much energy left to do any extra wanting for anyone outside of myself. I’s tied boss. Parenting is hard enough but add lazy and angsty into the mix and it’s enough to drive anyone over the moon.

I really wish that there was a magical pill to cure his laziness because, at least for today, I am at my wits end.

Hell Yes to Working Vacations!

If you ask me how my vacation is going I will tell you AMAZING. If you follow that up with “Oh yeah, what have you guys been doing?” You will be surprised at my answer: SLEEPING, EATING, RELAXING…WHATEVER THE FUCK WE WANT.

For most people traveling to foreign countries is all about being a tourist; exploring, taking in the sites, sounds, and experiences of the regions. And,  don’t get me wrong we’re doing that too, but really we’re doing WHATEVER THE FUCK WE WANT. Which is mostly to sleep, take long baths, wake up when we’re ready and watch movies. (All of which we don’t have the privilege of doing often at home.)

And because we’re (AB and myself) serial mompreneurs with two auto repair shops and a business services start up, and I’m a writer with a new book floating around the world, we’re working many hours of each day on our businesses. But there’s something about employees having to figure shit out on their own without calling, texting, or slacking you every five seconds, that makes working remotely so much more FUN and Productive.

There’s something very powerful about being reachable but unreachable at the same time. About sleeping in and still waking up 6 hours before your employees. About decreasing the screening process for potential new employees and realizing that all of the time you spend vetting people over the phone is a waste of time. That removing yourself from the process and letting the manager find out that people are either qualified or unqualified or batshit crazy once the person shows up for the interview, is a much better use of everyone’s time. Especially yours.

So far I’ve been to Amsterdam, France, and Germany and I’ve enjoyed each place tremendously while still getting shit done so YES, HELLLLLL YES to working vacations. If it weren’t for the boy, I would think twice about returning home. I lie it’s cold I need to eventually go home but I’m going to be a changed entrepreneur when I get back.

Dear Cancer, You Missed A Spot.

Man… FUCK CANCER. In all caps.

Cancer can take all of the people we know and love. Can snatch mothers away from their children, children away from their parents, and plenty of our beloved celebrities but apparently Cheeto McFartface and his goons are immune.

My grandmother used to say “Don’t wish death on nobody.” and I don’t. Not really. I mean.. death is a part of life and apparently cancer is death’s bottom bitch, the one he sends in to seal the deal but apparently she’s myopic. She keeps killing the wrong damn people and imma need him to bring her back in and do some retraining. Cause CHARLIE MURPHY? Like really?

Unknown.jpeg

America has an entire administration of movie star villains and Cancer could’ve taken any one of those idiots, likely saving millions of people in the process but Nah. When the roulette board of who to take today popped up on the screen death’s bottom bitch was like yeahhhh, let’s take that boy Charlie Murphy. Heaven needs more comedians.

Le sigh. I know he’ll rest in peace but I can’t help feeling like the scales of life and death are totally off balance right now.

I’m Terrified 

I’m terrified

Of Love

Of the way it changes everything.

Builds them into crescendos 

Then drop kicks them into black holes millions of light years away.

I’m terrified 

Of people.

Their ability to make you feel things.

To love you.

To stop loving you.

To suffocate you with their love until you no longer resemble the person they loved in the first place.

I’m terrified 

Of art. Of my heart. Of artists and surgeons and architects. Of brilliance. Of passion. Of everyone finding out that I have absolutely no idea about anything or anyone.

I’m terrified. 

Of change. Of nothing ever changing. Of words. And the world. Of light and sound. Of sounds. Especially laughter. Especially the laughter of the ones I love.

I’m terrified 

Of the ones I love. Of lost. Of possibility. Of brilliance. Of mattering. Of pain. Of my restrictions. Of myself. Of people who say shit like “there’s nothing to fear except fear itself.” When I’m so terrified of every single thing, especially fear itself. 
9/30 I have been writing every day I’m just terrified of sharing certain pieces. I’m only sharing this one because I’m terrified. #NaPoMo 

Reasons I Didn’t Text You Back But You Saw Me On Facebook.

Frequently from “friends” I get the dreaded question “Why didn’t you text me back?” on one of my Facebook or other Social Media posts forcing me to respond “When?”

Because, I likely don’t remember the text and more than likely don’t care about it. Not because I really don’t care about it but because instead of that person texting me back to ensure that I received it they wait around for the right post to ask on the internet. LIKE THEY DON’T HAVE MY DAMN PHONE NUMBER. Which they obviously do because, “Why didn’t you text me back?” means that there was a first text. Right?

Sooooo anyways here are a few reasons why I didn’t text you back. Hopefully I don’t hurt your feelings but if I do feel free to A: Unfriend me. or B: Cash Me Ousside.

Reason #67

I received it while I was doing other things read it, and either started to respond and got interrupted before I could send it or was busy and forgot about it by the time I finished reading it. (This is 98% of the reasons why.)

Reason #28

It wasn’t about money. Honestly I’m busy AF. I have three businesses, a wife, a child, a blog, a book and a bunch of other shit to do.  I have to prioritize. If it ain’t about the money I can’t give it too much of my brain space.

Reason #1

You were asking me for something and it wasn’t life or death. AND someone is always asking me for something which to be quite honest; is tiring AF.

Reason #44

The internet is my JOB. Most things I do on the internet are about business so while I HAVE to be active on the internet I don’t HAVE to be active in text messages.

Reason #2

I just didn’t want to. For whatever reason, I didn’t want to text you back. 

Those reasons are in no particular order and there are probably more but whilst I type this employees are calling, AB is Slacking me, DJ is texting me, and I have other shit to do. Hope this helps. If not send a text or two.

 

Ups/Downs 3.17.17

Today was a shitty fucking day. Things happened with an ex employee that I’m probably not supposed to talk about on the Internet which is a whole fucking problem in and of itself but I can say that dude was a FUCKBOI. Caps fucking locked.

 For close to two months I’ve felt like he held me hostage and I tried my fucking damndest to be professional about the situation because, unlike some people who are very short sighted , I play the long game. So I played his fucking game. And he still did fuckboi shit and quit in the most unprofessional of ways. And then today he and his raggedy ass, bitch ass, raising fuckbois for fun ass mama continued to try to rain on my fucking parade. 

Being the fucking Girl Boss that I am I pretty much ended the situation but every second of dealing with that shit  ate at my soul. So it’s not surprising to me that when I finally sat down for the day, my anxiety slowly crept up to panic attack on the floor of my dark closet hoping that neither my wife nor my son asks me what’s wrong cause my answer would be: EVERYTHING.

But it’s not. My day was actually great. I ran the shop next to my wife while simultaneously handling business for our other business, my networking Chapter, and our home.

 Really, I’m proud of Adrien because I am her and I don’t even know how the fuck she does it. Oh and while she was doing all of that shit she managed to figure out a way for Kitchen Table Literary Arts Center to convert more of their 1200 friends into fans on their Facebook page before they shut down their Yvonne Frederick page before the FUCKBOI of a Facebook shuts them down. 

So why if my day was really great am I typing this while hunched under a fuzzy throw on the floor of my dark ass clothes closet? Because I let a raggedy ass FUCKBOI and his bitch ass mama get all the way up under my skin. That’s why. 
Here’s a pic of me in a car making a face at Fuckbois and their bitch ass mamas. 

On the real: Death to Fuckbois 🖕🏾<- *middle finger emoji*

The System is Against You, But It Ain’t

My little brother is in jail. Not the baby because he has been playing Jail Monopoly since he was fourteen and I shouldn’t say that I wrote him off but *shrugs* I kinda did. This brother though, I just knew that he was going to make it. He was/is this close -> <- to making it  and I’ve done something that I don’t do; recommended him for a job with a friend who has pretty much guaranteed him a career with benefits including paying for him to get a trade where he would/could be set for life. Which he would be starting the second he graduates from high school in May.

I normally don’t do that because honestly, my brothers be tripping. Anger/inconsistency/Laziness/ etc etc. Things too often associated with the job habits of dudes from the hood. Even though my mom took us out of the hood a long ass time ago. But, Not this brother. This one is goofy. Drives you crazy with talking way too damn much, knowing everything in typical teenage fashion, and being a follower. I’ve told my mom in the past that she should send him somewhere. He could make it if he went somewhere far away from bad influences. Especially my other brothers who do things with him that he can’t handle. He might occasionally act like he’s from Newark but this child is straight up Drake in Degrassi corny. Hell he was born in Woodbine NJ. As small town country as one can get.

2B281FC800000578-3187251-image-m-39_1438885156753.jpg

Of course, she didn’t. What mom really wants to send her child far away? Especially when he’s a follower who could get into all sorts of things without proper supervision. So this weekend to my utter shock this lame has landed himself in jail with multiple charges of breaking and entering. Except this loser really didn’t do any of those things. This idiot is only guilty of the last two charges, pawning other people’s shit and lying on a pawn form.

His “friends” did the crime and ol lame o is more than likely going to do the time. Even if he doesn’t go to jail he’s probably not hire-able for that nice job, probably won’t be able to go to college, which was his other option, probably now on the same track as the rest of my brothers. I know that that whole sentence is a slippery slope BUT it is also what happens in my experience. Now, I could talk about how if he were a white kid and we had money these charges would go away pretty easily. He’s getting ready to graduate from high school for christ’s sake. He’s a teenage idiot doing stupid teenage things. BUT again in my experience this isn’t what is destined to happen for him. No one really cares about messing up the rest of teens from the hood’s lives.

I’m feeling all of the emotions right now- anger, grief, frustration, sadness, and mostly annoyance. Because while the system IS setup in a way where brown boys are more likely to do prison time for petty crimes, my loser of a brother has no real reason to even be in this situation.

Why wasn’t he at home doing his homework or something? Were there no football games happening at his school for him to go and be cute at while drinking Gatorade, eating cheese fries, and macking on girls his age?

He didn’t need to pawn other people’s crap. My parents provide very handsomely for this idiot including letting him drive my mom’s shiny black pathfinder as if it’s his own. He has a nice house with two parents with a fully stocked fridge and all of the electronics that one would want. He has multiple adult siblings who want to see him thrive so they give him money for suede shoes for his prom, homecoming and anything else he could want AND if he could just go to work with my dad and not get on his last damn nerve he could have a job that pays too well for a barely trained worker. But ALAS B-Rad would rather hang with the wrong people and do the wrong things so now my mom is yet again crying over another idiotic ass black boy guilty of doing things that he shouldn’t do for no other reason than

1: He’s lame.

2: He wants to.

3: He thinks that the system is against him and he has nothing to lose and I want to tell him that yes it is, but also No it ain’t.

 

 

I’m So Judgmental: Movie Review- The Shallows.

I don’t know why I watch movies or read books where people put themselves at risk, I’m so judgmental. My empathy ends where the character’s stupidity begins. I feel like I need to conquer this in order to be a better writer. Without risk the story is boring. The same can be said for the opposite, if there is too much risk, or the character never wins, the story becomes overwhelming and boring.

SO ANYWAY, This post is about the stupidness that is The Shallows. I live blogged this so bare with me as I type my thoughts.

  1. Why are you going to a place where you don’t speak the language heading off of the beaten path and barely letting anyone know where you’re going.
  2. Anywhere that someone takes you which is considered a secret and local territory is NOT FOR YOU.
  3. When the guide advises you that it will be getting late soon, why do you continue to place yourself at risk by doing dangerous activities when it’s late?
  4. UBER is not available in secret remote locations. Failing to plan is planning to fail. Especially with something as basic as transportation. This is where I knew this movie was gonna get on my last damn nerve.
  5. Why do people do dangerous activities with their hair flailing around their face. Ever hear of hair ties?
  6. Big ass dead ass animal means get the fuck out of there. Curiosity is said to have killed the cat, I’m pretty sure that the cat was a damn human. If a dangerous animal didn’t kill whatever you’re looking at then chances are that the area that you’re in is probably toxic, either way, Get your ass out of that area, STAT.
  7. Credit for utilizing your brains and medical skills to patch yourself up.
  8. God or The Universe or Karma do not like ugly. Whatever you do will always come back to you.
  9. I’m not going to speak on the impossibility of the battle but kudos to you for winning.
  10. So, you saved yourself as we suspected you would and this taught me that risk makes for a story. No risk, no story. I’m still not heading out to any remote locations to surf without letting anyone know any time soon.

Overall I appreciated a few things about this movie but for me the premise is weak. I don’t see any good reason for her to have been out there in the first place but then again, I don’t have the privilege of being that willy nilly with my life. I’d give it 3 Stars.

images.jpeg

Truth Is: You Don’t Do It All

 

Frequently I’m asked how I do it all and usually I spout of a myriad of people, things, and skills that I utilize to get ALL of the things done. I don’t intentionally lie but I don’t think I ever really say that you don’t get it ALL done. It’s not possible. All of the money in all of the world will not ever buy you the ability (I should mention here that AB just interrupted me to find out where the money from my book sales is. This is my life.) to be able to get ALL of the things done.

You can Shipt your groceries, Amazon your household goods, Mango your Laundry, Hire Nick to train you, hire the other Nick to clean your house twice a month, hire Aaron to fix your lunch, subscribe to TWO calendars to keep you on track, use lists to help you maintain your daily tasks… you could even have Jesus himself come down on more than one occasion to help you submit things on time for your writing career, and you still won’t get it all done. b99a87795377f13fc3d5dd3d5cb2994e.jpg

There will still be text messages on your phone from friends waiting for responses that you swore you sent out weeks ago. There will be flagged emails in your inbox with important tasks that you may or may not have completed. There will even be a few family game nights that you let fall to the wayside because, even though you weren’t that busy, you were too tired. That’s a cop out but it’s true.

The trick is to realize that you’re not getting it all done, to do your absolute best to use your resources to get the most important things done, to never starve your family or run out of toilet paper, to forgive yourself and to keep moving forward.

Pic via Pinterest.