6 Word Stories

What up good people. So, I’m taking a break from being so introspective..I need to lighten up a bit. Well, I follow a blog for writers, thewritepractice.com  The other day someone introduced me to the idea of 6 word stories. I loved it. These can be so fun to write. Anyway, my stories are below. Enjoy!! Feel free to add your own or leave a comment in the comments box!


“ 3:34 A.M.”

No show. No call. Worried sick!


She cried. His hug healed her.


He finally called. She answered. Relief.


Get a switch off that tree!!

“Stand Your Ground”

He hit her. Gun fired. End.


She fell. He fell. They Married.

“My choice”

Legitimate rape led to illegitimate child. Abortion?


Belt grabbed . . . didn’t I say no!


Lifetime of accomplishments ends in suicide.

“Rep. Akin”

Am I broken? Got raped. . .pregnant.


September 06, 2011 life changed forever—birthed Benyamin.

“Black in 2012”

You shouldn’t be allowed to vote.


For Our Children

Just a few things some mommy friends and I would like our children to know 🙂

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.”

~Frederick Douglass

“While we try to teach our children all about life,
Our children teach us what life is all about.”
~Angela Schwindt

I will love you every day for the rest of your life, even after mine ends.

I don’t promise to be perfect, always get it right or be free of contradictions. Mommy will make mistakes—you will too. Let’s be gracious to one another.

I don’t promise you won’t have days where you feel mommy is mean and selfish. The truth is there may, well, will be, some days that mommy is being mean and selfish. I do promise to keep those days at a minimum.

I don’t promise to always have the answers, only that I will always help you find them.

Mommy doesn’t know everything. I expect there will be countless days where I’m learning from you.

I will listen to your voice. I will learn your heart. I promise to encourage your gifts, skills, talents and abilities.

I will not accept anything less than your best.

I will teach you what I know and how to research to find your own answers.

Discipline is inevitable. You are my son and you will know how to properly conduct yourself.

Mommy will do what’s best for you even if you don’t like it.

I will do all I can to set you up for success.

I won’t always tell you what you want to hear but I will tell you what you need to hear.

Some days mommy will be like sandpaper to you but know that when it’s over your rough edges will be smooth.

You are your own individual. You don’t need to be anyone else.

You are more powerful than you think.


You have a village looking out for you. Remember that and take advantage of it.



If ever asked my great accomplishment in this world, my answer will always be you.

Mommy is supposed to be the one teaching you but instead I’m learning so much from you.

I will never tell you anything that will hurt you.

The world is yours so I will always encourage you to follow your dreams and to never take “no” for an answer.

I will always have your best interest at heart.

I never knew I could love something or someone so much until you came into my life.

I promise to always love you, be a shoulder to lean on, support you and always listen.

Regardless of how bad of a day I’m having, you always make everything better.


Every day, loving you is teaching me how to love unconditionally.

My dreams for you are bigger than the dreams I ever imagined for myself

I’m blessed to know that God entrusted me with one of his most precious creations

One day you’ll understand why I tell you “don’t ask me why.”

What about you? What do you have to say to your child(ren) or the children you hope to have? Feel free to leave a comment below 🙂


Fly Mom, The Resolution

I found her at the end of myself. She was standing there, leaning against the wall fly as ever. She confidently stood clad in some fresh skinny jeans, a fitted turquoise tank with a fly head wrap. She didn’t wear any make up though, save mascara. And, yes, she stood 4 inches taller in a pair of dope stilettos.

When I looked and realized who she was, our eyes locked. We reconnected immediately and that made us both smile. I ran to her and embraced her. I was so glad to see her again. She looked at me and said that I looked different. She could tell I had gone through some things and had grown a bit.

I let out a slow sigh of relief. Although I had forsaken her, she had not forsaken me. She had been patiently waiting for my embrace; she’d been waiting to be rediscovered. She was sure that I’d embrace her again, confident that I’d return.

So, there I was looking at myself, my “Fly” self. I hung my head in shame because I had neglected her. I separated her from my “mommy” self. I didn’t know how they could exist harmoniously. She reminded me that I should be gracious to myself. She insisted that being fly is much more than what I wear

In fact, there are few things more fly than being a mother that loves and nurtures her child…

The time will eventually come when my son sleeps through the night. I will resume regularly treating myself to dinner, rocking out at Starbucks, hanging out with the girls and enjoying some degree of spontaneity. But, today I will enjoy every moment with my son. I will hug him as often as I’d like, kiss him as many times as I’d like, and play with him for as long I’d like. He will be confident that he has a mother and a father that loves him more than he can imagine.

So, I will take her advice. I will be gracious to myself and allow for shapeless dresses, flats, sweats and t-shirts. I won’t feel shallow or less than a devoted mom when I do pull “sexy” out of the closet. I will get my nose pierced again and have my hood piercing done over. This is just the beginning of my journey as a mother, but I’m determined… this is and will be my resolution: Skinny jeans or not. Stilettos or not, I am Fierce, I am Beautiful, I am a fly MOM!


From Fly Girl To. . .Mom

We were not trying to get pregnant but we definitely weren’t trying not to get pregnant either. 
Before my son I would get up and run a steamy shower. Standing under the flow of near scalding hot water I would take a deep breath, let the water gently beat down on my face and chest to allow it to wake and relax me in preparation for a new day. Freshly showered and wrapped in a towel I’d stand in my brightly lit vanity mirror, put in my clear contacts, paint some beautiful earth-tone shadows on my eyelids, extend my lashes, gloss my lips and take all the time I’d need to make sure my afro looked perfect. Finally, I’d put on a nice  pencil skirt with a fitted top and some killer heels…My favorite was a red, high-waisted skirt that hugged every curve on my size 0 frame (don’t think being a size 0 means an absence of curves!) I’d wear it with a ruffled black top that was cut just low enough to entice the boys, and top it off with some 4 inch, peep toe leopard print stilettos. Even all through my pregnancy I wore my stiletto and wedge heels . . . I was a HOTT pregnant chic!   After hours, you would have probably found me sitting Indian style in a big leather chair, seated in the window at my favorite Starbucks with my MacBook for editing photos, an IPod for rocking out and/or a journal for releasing. Just before getting pregnant, I had a brush cut that I dyed red. I got two piercings: my nose and the other–a hood piercing. I was sexy and confident. But,  somewhere I lost that.  Somewhere between waking up every 2-3 hours to nurse my son and trying to salvage what few minutes of sleep I could I lost the Fly Girl in me. I gave her over to the sleep deprived mommy in me. I forsook her for a few fleeting moments of rest.  But does it have to be that way? Can’t I be a Fly Girl and a mommy? A Fly mommy??!! These days, I just lack the energy to put much effort into what I’m wearing.
Today. . . I get up, jump in the shower, nurse my son, put on my glasses, skip the makeup and put on something that’s hardly worth looking at.  I got my pre-pregnancy body back. I’m a size 0 again but I am definitely not my fly pre- pregnancy self. I feel like there’s only a shell left.  I don’t remember the last time I looked at myself and felt pretty, not to mention fierce or sexy. I remember my last attempt.  I skinny jean-ed and pump-ed it up but still felt flat. Clearly, it didn’t work. My nose and hood piercings have closed.  The stilettos I once wore have been replaced by flats. Fitted skirts replaced by shapeless, floor length dresses—cute maxi dresses–but shapeless none the less. Exhausted from the restless night before, I drag myself out of bed for work every day and fight to stay awake. After hours these days you’re most likely to find me at home in a t-shirt and some sweats sitting on the floor or on the couch playing with my son.  I try to turn back the hands of time and be the woman that first drew Brian in. Flats?! Hardly. I was always in some skinny jeans, leggings, short skirt or something fly. I remember he’d get to the car or to where I was sitting and look at me with this mischievous grin on his face. . . I loved it! Joan Morgan writes in her book, “When Chickenheads Come Home to Roost”, of how much of a total drag it would be to not have a man “roam his eyes longingly over all the intended places.” Brian did that, and I ate up every second. It felt good to know the man I desired had a desire for me, as well. I hardly ever get that look anymore. I mean, he’s good at telling me I’m pretty, and that he thinks I’m amazing but I have a hard time feeling that way.
Recently, I stood with my head resting on his chest and cried. He didn’t realize I was crying until he lifted my face to kiss me. He asked what was wrong and I explained that I feel like an old maid. I never hang out with my friends anymore. I never get dressed up anymore and I never really go anywhere without my son. The only constant is that I’m almost always sure I don’t have plans to party or do anything recreational on any given weekend.  I’m 31!!  That’s far too young to be an old maid!!
You should know I definitely enjoy my son. There is nothing greater than the joy of seeing his smiling face and watching him grow!  I love being a mother.  But, I am also a woman trying to salvage her individuality and not allow being a mommy to overshadow my dreams, aspirations or hobbies.
I know that my tale is no different than any other mother that has a small child,  but this is hard for me–this transition from fly to mom. I haven’t quite yet learned how to be a fly mom. I will wake up tomorrow put on my pencil skirt, my heels, do my makeup and remind myself all day long that I AM A FIERCE, I AM BEAUTIFUL and I AM A FLY MOM. Or, better yet, remind myself that these things are true no matter what I wear.