Wow, I have gotten so much positive feedback about my blog post Funkidivagirl: A 4 Real Housewife.  It seems that many women can relate to my story and would like to tell their story as well.  I’m excited for Funkidivagirl.com to be a platform for women to express themselves!  You can read all The 4 Real Housewives’ profiles here.

Meet another 4 Real Housewife, Renee Mack Jones.  Just look at that beautiful family!  Watch Renee’s video and learn how she feels about being a 4 Real Housewife:

Want to know more about Renee?  You can read her blog here.

Are you a 4 Real Housewife?

…..smart, educated, fun, interesting, fascinating, creative, savvy, strong, funki women who understand the importance of making family and home life a priority and who work hard to make their lives flexible enough to make this a reality.  I believe that this definition is inclusive of a broad spectrum of women: women who don’t work, work at home, own their own businesses, work outside the home part-time, flex-time, or anytime that family life allows.  This housewife understands the importance of being available for her husband, children, friends and community but also that she needs to give equal priority to taking care of herself physically, emotionally and doing things that nurture her soul.  She’s no Sandra Dee wimp, she’s fierce!

If that sounds like you, here’s your chance to tell everyone “I’m a 4 Real Housewife!”  You can read the submission guidelines here.  Come on, the world is waiting.

Sometimes I get so bogged down in all that I have to do: the kids, the house, my sales agent gig and trying to find some time to work on things that interest me (my blog & the many business ideas that I have), not to mention exercise and personal growth–it is impossible to do within the hours of 8:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m., Monday-Friday (not counting the many, MANY school holidays) because after 2:30 p.m. when I pick up Kid 1 from school and then 3:15 p.m. when I pick up Kid 2, it’s on like Donkey Kong.  (A note: my kids go to the same school, but they are dismissed 45 minutes apart.  The administration just wants to torture me for having kids so far apart in age).

Then the REAL work begins until I lay my head down at 11:00 p.m., which could mean on any given day: a school meeting, drop off/pick up from Brownies, orchestra, basketball practice, art class and violin lessons; then back at home for violin practice, help with homework, dinner, a bath & book for the little one and admonishment and pleas for the older one to shower and get to bed at a reasonable hour.  I feel like I have a perpetual “to do” list that never gets done as something else is always added.

And so sometimes I lose sight of the big picture and need reminding.  Recently I was at a school function and talking with a faculty member who I admire for her wit, dedication to the school and also her commitment to her kids.  She has one child out of college and working and one child still in college, so her nest is (mostly) empty.  She was asking me about my kids, who she knows very well, and myself.  I replied that the kids were great, but I was kind of crazy with the running around now that it was basketball season again.  She looked at me and said with a little wistfulness, “But these are the best days of your life, when your children are at home; enjoy them.”  That kind of started me, as I know that she has taken up painting, Pliates classes and traveling more–basically enjoying her empty nest.  And while yes, I do enjoy my children very much, part of me is longing for more TIME for myself to explore all that is inside of me; all that untapped potential that has been at the grocery store, doing laundry or building science projects.  

Over the last few days I have been reflecting on what she said and she is right.  While I do look forward to the next phase of my life with more time to myself and will welcome a new relationship with my grown children, I will miss these days of early morning kisses, fall days in the park and laughing together at the dinner table. 

I am currently reading Finding Your Own North Star by Martha Beck and one chapter helps the reader to identify what brings them true joy (versus fleeting happiness).  So far I have identified that animals, art, reading/writing, being near the ocean and spending time with my family brings me joy.  To that end,  I am taking horseback riding lessons, getting a dog soon and started my blog.  And of course, I have my beautiful family.  I’m just missing the ocean, and I am confident that I will make that happen in the future.  As for the art, look at this portrait of me that my daughter drew as I was paying the bills the other afternoon.  Isn’t it good?  I am so pleased that I have passed on my love of art to her!

I put this up in my office as a reminder. See, I’m smiling. What a joyous life I have!  

Wow, I have gotten so much positive feedback about my blog post Funkidivagirl: A 4 Real Housewife.  It seems that many women can relate to my story and would like to tell their story as well.  I’m excited for Funkidivagirl.com to be a platform for women to express themselves!  You can read all The 4 Real Housewives’ profiles here.

Meet Latoicha Givens.  You may know Latoicha as the woman behind Luxetips, a very popular fashion and beauty blog.  Did you know that she is also a lawyer, owns her own business and writes IP Law 101, her Intellectual Property Law blog?   She does all this while still putting her family first; Latoicha is a 4 Real Housewife!  

Why is Latoicha a 4 Real Housewife?  In her own words:

What about you? Are you a 4 Real Housewife?

…..smart, educated, fun, interesting, fascinating, creative, savvy, strong, funki women who understand the importance of making family and home life a priority and who work hard to make their lives flexible enough to make this a reality.  I believe that this definition is inclusive of a broad spectrum of women: women who don’t work, work at home, own their own businesses, work outside the home part-time, flex-time, or anytime that family life allows.  This housewife understands the importance of being available for her husband, children, friends and community but also that she needs to give equal priority to taking care of herself physically, emotionally and doing things that nurture her soul.  She’s no Sandra Dee wimp, she’s fierce!

If that sounds like you, here’s your chance to tell everyone “I’m a 4 Real Housewife!”  You can read the submission guidelines here.  It’s fun and easy–promise!  

Just want to learn about other 4 Real Housewives?  Subscribe to Funkidivagirl.com and join the YouTube and Facebook groups so you don’t miss a thing.

On November 1, 2008 a good friend, father, son, brother and life partner was lost when Shakir Stewart committed suicide.  I barely knew Shakir, but my husband had known him for many years and considered him a friend and “little brother”.  We were at home when we found out the news and my husband was devastated. At first he refused to believe that Shakir took his own life and insisted instead it was foul play.  But as it became clear that indeed Shakir’s death was by his own hand, my husband grieved even more as he struggled to make sense of it all.  How could this man, so young and successful, take his own life? 

We attended the memorial service on Morehouse’s campus and the place was packed with those who loved and respected Shakir.  Many people spoke, my husband among them, and all said the same thing: that Shakir was loving, loyal, funny, supportive, smart, and most of all, that he loved life.  It was no doubt that Shakir was a special person put on earth to touch many people and change many lives.

I will never forget talking to Shakir’s mother after the service and she said, “I didn’t really know my son.”  I’m sure that it is a sentiment that many suicide family-victims share.   Who was this person in their last hours, in so much despair that life didn’t seem worth living anymore?  Certainly he was not the person that everyone spoke about at the memorial service?

But, yes he was.  He possessed all of those good qualities and some bad ones too.  Everyone one of us has, for lack of a better phrase, a dark side.  A part of us that is full of doubt, insecurity and pain.  And if you don’t have it, just keep living.  Life has a way of eventually breaking us down.   By “life” I mean careers (too stressful or non-existent), money (too much or lack thereof), people who break our hearts (by dying, leaving and just being human) and all the other things that grind on us day after day and have the potential to zap our strength and steal our joy.   Life can really suck sometimes.  The thing about despair is that it can be such a slow decent downhill that you think you are handling it fine, but then one thing can happen to send you careening over the edge. 

I was once in a terrible state and my entire life was crumbling around me.  I was blessed to have support from family and friends, I had joined a local church and I was in therapy.  I was in a mess, but handling it remarkably well, or so it seemed to me and everyone else.  And then when I thought that my life couldn’t possibly get any worse, it did.  Just like that, I snapped.  I hastily packed a bag and jumped in my car.  I didn’t even know where I was going.  I found myself on the Garden State Parkway and 90 minutes later I got off on the exit for Ocean Grove.  I vaguely remembered my local librarian talking about this beach town in New Jersey that was founded by a Methodist preacher and somehow I knew that it was where I needed to be.  After exiting I remembered that I had long ago heard of a bed & breakfast there called the Love Letter Inn, and without any directions I drove straight into town and stopped directly in front of the inn.   It was late in the evening when I knocked on the door and was greeted by the owner.  The only room that she had left was the bridal suite and it was over $150 for the night.  I couldn’t afford that, but she took one look in my eyes and gave me the room for $75.  I cried and slept and looked at the ocean outside my window. 

The next day I checked out and looked for more affordable accommodations as $75 was even too much for me at the time.  Another kind hotel owner found an inexpensive room for me with a shared hall bathroom in a place a block from the beach. I had been missing now for almost 24 hours and my cell phone was ringing continuously as friends and family became worried.  I didn’t want to talk to anyone, so eventually I just turned it off.  I sat and cried and stared at the ocean.  On the beach there was huge cross planted right in the sand.  I don’t know if it is always there, but it was there then and I knew that it wasn’t an accident that I ended up in that coastal town.  At the time, I really didn’t know how to pray or what to say, but just sitting near that cross soothed me.

That evening I finally checked my voice mail and as I listened the messages became more and more frantic.  The last message was from our town’s police chief (who was also a family friend) saying that he was going to Lo-jack my car if I didn’t return his call.  Trying to head off any drama (too late for that, right?), I called him back.  See, the funny thing was I had just talked to him before I received that “last straw,” so he didn’t understand my disappearance.  I told him what had happened to make me run away and I will never forget what he said to me as it changed my life forever: He said, “You are putting too much faith in people, in circumstances.  Only ONE will never let you down and that’s Jesus.”   I clung to those words, re-dedicated myself to Christ right then and checked out the hotel.  As I left, the owner gently took my hand and said, “You look so much better now; I think that you’re going to be okay.”  And I was.  My entire life drastically changed and although things got much worse before they got better, I handled them with humility and grace. 

Unlike Shakir, during my darkest hour I didn’t want to harm myself.  But like Shakir, I felt so much pain, and so much despair that I had to do something to cope, so I ran away.   My absence, for even just a short while, caused many people grief and that I do regret, but understand that I was just trying to keep myself from breaking in a million pieces.  From all accounts it seems that Shakir, like me, had many people that he could have turned to for help. Could have one of his many friends or family members helped pull him off the edge?  Perhaps they could have if they had known what was troubling him, but your mind and soul can be a powerful battleground.  If the war isn’t won there first, it can be really hard for someone else to reach you, no matter how much they love you.

Has life gotten better for me?  Yes, it has.  Do I still feel broken and beaten sometimes?  Yes, I do.  But I am certain that I will never run away again as I have something to believe in more powerful than the people and circumstances around me or even myself.  There was, as they say, “a blessing in the storm”, in that I now know that I can handle whatever life throws at me, hold on to His Unchanging Hand and emerge stronger and wiser than before. 

I wish that Shakir had won the battle that was raging inside of him, because I’m certain that he would have used that lesson to be a blessing to those around him, just like he always had.   But his death doesn’t have to be in vain.  We touch each other everyday in big and small ways.  Let’s let our touch be a gentle and loving, yet lasting one.   With God’s grace we can make the decision to be a better person and love harder, laugh longer and live louder.  In doing that we honor Shakir and others who just couldn’t hold on another day.  

Shakir Stewart

April 12, 1974 – November 1, 2008

7:45 a.m. 

Got out of bed.  It was a school holiday, so I stayed in bed a bit longer, although I had been awake for at least 45 minutes.

Got laundry started.

Picked up the house from the weekend.

Prodded The Boy to clean his room, practice violin and start his homework.

Made breakfast for the kids and myself.

Bathed Girly, washed and twisted her hair.

Changed the sheets on all the beds.

Got dressed myself.

11:00 a.m.

Picked up one of The Boy’s friends.  Took us all to lunch.

12:00 p.m.

Dropped off Girly at a friend’s house.

12:30 p.m.

Back at home; continued laundry.

Checked and answered several emails.

Sent emails to customer & head office about fundraiser that ended today.

Got on Twitter; accepted new followers, tweeted my updates & replies.

Checked my blog; approved comments.

Worked on a blog post for later this week.

2:30 p.m. 

Girly is back home; talked about playdate.

Continued laundry.

Made grocery list.

3:30 p.m.

Took The Boy and Friend to basketball practice.

Went to Whole Foods with Girly to shop for the week.

Back at home.  Called my mother and talked to her while putting away groceries, emptying the dishwasher and putting away folded laundry.

6:00 p.m.

Ate dinner as a family. Cleaned the kitchen.

Put pizza money & library books in kids’ backpacks.

Went over my schedule for tomorrow and added things that I didn’t get to today.

7:30 p.m.

Practiced violin with Girly.

8:00 p.m.

Read to and put Girly to bed.  

Tweeted & checked Facebook.

And here I am right now….exhausted!