Happy Bert Day Me!

I was recently watching a video of Shug, circa two years of age, running around the house with a pull up, too small t-shirt and a birthday hat he got from God knows where singing " Happy Bert - day Me!" Suffice it to say, it was December and was not his birthday. But alas, this month, Shug did celebrate his 7th birthday.....My heavens, Shug is seven! Corny, but true.

This post started off as a nostalgic testament to the fact that I have now had the honor and privilege of mothering one of the sweetest, smartest, most endearing children on this planet for the past seven years- but I see it evolving into something else as I write. I can hardly believe that seven years have passed so quickly. I can now say to other folks with younger children, enjoy it now- because time with the wee ones DOES pass very quickly.

It seems like yesterday that I was spread eagle in the delivery room- with all my once treasured goodies on display for the world to see - refusing to scream from the sheer magnitude of torture and pain my body was enduring for fear that I would not be able to stop. I clearly remember thinking "one of us is not going to make it out of this hospital" because the pain was that intense. But alas, praise God, we both made it out alive. After expressing my displeasure with one of my dearest sister/friends regarding her lack of honesty regarding the magnitude of what I would exprience during birth, she reminded me , God has promised us that after every hardship, there is relief. Indeed, I have come to know that truer words were never spoken.

Watching my BFK in labor this week (Yes, my little Z is finally here!) brought back memories of my own labor - which was hard - and my delivery, which was even harder! I think this is the first time that I have publicly acknowledged the fact that I was in labor for almost two days! 48 freakin' hours! I went in on a Friday when they started the induction, due to the fact that my blood pressure was through the roof. I was in labor all day Saturday and most of Sunday and Shug arrived sometime Sunday night....I was high as hell and a lot of what transpired is still a blur. What I do vividly remember, even seven years later, is the recurring thought of just how hard this thing was that I was being called to do. They call it labor for a reason ya'll and it was by far the most difficult thing that I had had to do up to that point. Not going toe to toe with the school bully in the 8th grade, trying to decipher the maze of physics in 11th grade or even battling racist professors in grad school could even begin to compare.

I stress the words, up to that point because what I did not realize is that things would soon get worse....a lot worse. What I now know is that my labor was preparation for the unforeseen challenges that would lie ahead of me. The dissolution of my relationship with my son's father, and all the drama therein, subsequently becoming a single mother and then trying to manage the daunting tasks of raising my son "right", working full-time with young men whose emotional and educational needs would siphon every bit of energy from me each day, commuting to and from Newark (30 minutes each way) - all while trying to maintain some sense of "KC". Dear reader, I will spare you the details. Let's just say that the shit was real hectic for a minute. So much so that I actually quit my job for a closer part-time gig- cutting my pay by about 70%. Yessir, Mrs. K done lived a little bit. I have been through some shit ya'll and have learned many lessons, as I am wont to do, the hard way- smile.

Oh yeah.....in reviewing some of the events that have transpired over the past seven years, like the old folks would say,"my soul looks back and wonders- how I made it over." But, larger than questioning how I did it, is the realization of the fact that I did it. With the help of God, family and friends, I did it.....and continue to do it each day.

There was a time in my life that I actually bought into the whole notion of not wanting to "be a statistic" and was SUPREMELY embarrassed by the reality of raising my son as a "single mother". I no longer feel that way. There was a point in which I had to chose to either settle for a life of mediocrity and intense pain in a relationship, to keep up appearances, or to cut my loses and regain some peace of mind on my own. I worried so much about what other people would say, what they would think and how they would judge me... I don't concern myself with that anymore. I say, Fuck em'. I now embrace my reality with my son, cherish the moments we spend together and know that despite it all, he is a loving, caring and well grounded child. His father is a part of his life and they truly love one another and from my perspective right now - things are all good.

I know that my experiences raising Shug have made me a better person...a more kind, patient, flexible and gracious person. Mothering Shug has forced me out of my bubble of self-absorption and has made me more accepting of life and it's myriad challenges. Motherhood has brought me to my knees on many a day and it has humbled me beyond belief. Motherhood reminds me, on almost a daily basis, to appreciate the little things as often as possible because nothing in this life is guaranteed. But of them all, one of the biggest lessons motherhood has taught me is that I AM NOT IN CONTROL. I am totally convinced that there is a plan for my life that is bigger than anything I can imagine. So when things are not going according to MY plan, I am cool with letting go and trusting that everything is exactly as it should be.

May 2008 sporting the latest in 1st grade birthday fashion...the treasured "birthday crown". However, as you can see, my man is NOT feeling it. He is looking at me in this picture like 'ain't nothing to smile about because my teacher is playing me out- on my birthday - giving me this damn Tiara to wear!'

So, with all that said...I want to give the biggetst birthday shout out to the coolest little dude I know.....my Sugar Bear Poopo Love....Shug. Mommy loves you to the moon and back again (he sings this to me all the time) and I am so very proud of you. You are the brightest star in my constelation of life. Not because you are smart, cause you are....and not because you are handsome, cause you are that too....but just because....just because. Happy Bert day!