My son is just 4 weeks shy of 17 years old.

My son frequently walks to the neighborhood store for a drink and some candy.

My son often wears a hoodie.  Most recently a Stanford hoodie.

My son puts the hood up when it’s rainy or chilly or if he just feels like it.

So.

Would you question his motives?

Of course not.

Because from reading this blog you know that he is

Middle class

Intelligent

Well-traveled

And comes from a 2 parent household.

He plays the violin, for God’s sake.

There is no reason to be suspicious of him. You know him.

And yet.

Taken out of the context of this blog, taken out of the “safe” labels of #middleclass #intelligent #2parenthousehold,

And now just a nameless brown boy, hood up, walking in YOUR neighborhood…..

What do you think now?

Suspicious some?

Scared some?

Many are.

(If I had a dollar for every neighborhood-watch email that begins with “there’s a suspicious black male….”)

Don’t be surprised and don’t get it twisted.  This is real.  Even for intelligent, middle-class brown boys like mine.  It does not matter who he is or where he comes from.  The suspicion, the fear and the profiling is very real.

Trayvon Martin could have been my son.

So my hoodie is up

For all the brown boys who are watched when they enter the store

Or take a short-cut through another neighborhood

Or cruise around in their parent’s car on a Friday night.

My hoodie is UP.

© 2012, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

My husband, James Andrews, wrote this on his blog, JamesAndrews.tv, on our wedding anniversary.  I hope it blesses you and those in your life.

Our Wedding Day

November 27, 2011

Today my wife Sherrelle and I are celebrating 18 years of marriage. Whoa! Where did the time go!! I know without a shadow of a doubt that marrying her was the single most important decision I have made in my life. Have we had problems you ask? Absolutely, our marriage has endured its share of ups and downs. Has it made us stronger? YES. I can say that at 18 years today we are a solid unit and work in total unison. Didn’t say total agreement, I said “unison.” I know that my approach and look at things is totally different at times than my wife’s. It is operating in this difference and respecting each other’s unique perspective that help us make wise family decisions. One thing that we are completely on the same page about is the fact that without a spiritual relationship our marriage means nothing. We give Jesus Christ the glory, honor and praise for guiding us daily. This “relationship” is more than just attending church but it’s about a filter in which we view life’s challenges on a daily basis–and there are SO MANY daily challenges to filter.

As an entrepreneur my wife is an “investor” in my company by providing the backbone support for the family. There is ABSOLUTELY no way that I would be able to run a successful business, manage employees and maintain two offices if Sherrelle wasn’t operating as COO of the Andrews Family. That trust I have in her managing the details which include but are in no way limited to: Paying the bills, planning vacations, managing the school calendar, researching things for us to do on weekends, and so on, and so on, and on. My wife’s ability to organize all the other functions of my life allow me to focus on running the company and simply having the room to create visions and for that she is a huge investor in my company. I cherish the role she plays and really travel when I have to and when in town do my best to support her role. Lastly, my wife is my emotional cheerleader and confidant. It is here where I need and depend on her so much. The way I look at life, business, friends, family can be so out of wack that without my wife giving me a proper grounding and sometimes additional viewpoint I would completely make several “bonehead decisions.” I confer with Sherrelle on so many decisions and trust her intution. I know and respect a “woman’s intuition” and my wife has the best “Spidey Sense” in the business.

Some of you reading this may not be married yet and considering marriage one day. Maybe you have been married in the past, it ended badly and you are tainted by the whole experience. Perhaps you are in a marriage and are trying to figure out how to get out. Whatever your situation I have this to say to you: Marriage is A MARATHON, NOT A RACE. In plain speak it means that you have to CHOOSE to be married not expect some “oooeey goooey” feeling to take over your body on a daily basis. Our media obsessed culture has many of us totally confused on what real love looks like and most importantly what it takes to survive. So many men I know have a “jacked up” view of sex because of a lust filled culture and pornography. Lastly couples in general lack the commitment to sustainable marriages because of the popular “He/She is not making ME HAPPY” mentality that permeates the way we view marriage. By true confession I’m not a marriage counselor or trained therapist. However (and unfortunately) at 18 years of marriage I’m a member of this rare fraternity of people who make it past 7-10 years of marriage.Here are a few tips that might help you on your journey of marriage:

• Fellas Take The Sword: This means at times (like 90%) you need to “fall on the sword” in an arugment for the sake of your marriage. I promise you this will save you a lot of heartache, time and pain. BE the peacemaker by being the bigger adult. Yes EVEN when she’s dead wrong.
• Eat Dinner At Home As A Family: I noticed that our marriage and relationship as a family changed for the better when we actually committed to a consistent family dinner time at the table. It may last 30 minutes but it is the best time to connect with your wife and family
• Shut It Down: Try and turn off electronics and just soak up your wife. I am still working on this in true confession which tells you how long it actually takes. The fact that I work in Social Media and my wife is a blogger doesn’t help. Try it I promise it works
• Find A Shared Passion: My wife and I have recently realized we share a passion for health/fitness. Sherrelle has done a Clean Program Cleanse with me for 21 days and I most recently took up Kettlebells at her suggestion and we work out in the morning together
• Snuggle Up: Every time you come to bed you don’t have to hit a “home run.” Practice the art of some good ol’ Spoonin which in the end leads to even bigger fireworks.
• Care About Things She Cares About: Guess what, life is not just about YOU. Get into her life and be bummed or be happy about the things that move her emotionally. Women are driven by the details of the day. Be authentically involved in her daily details
• Wise Counsel: You need to keep a few men around you that have some wisdom and have been married several years. If your mentor’s advice to you is “Go get you a chick on the side” RUN IMMEDIATELY and find a new mentor, he’s not your guy homie!

There are so many tips that I could share but I just wanted to get this blog post off my chest. I hope that you find some of what I’m sharing helpful. As we celebrated our marriage today I felt so blessed and humbled that we have made it this far. DIVORCE IS NOT AN OPTION for us and we truly practice that. I would be nothing if I couldn’t at least help a few marriages make it. It’s really tough out there and I want nothing else but to see marriages survive. Again without God I would not even be able to write this post and celebrate this marriage. My best to you. Let me know what tips you have.

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

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How do you feel when it’s revealed that your teacher, brother, mentor, priest or friend is an embezzler, alcoholic, adulterer, drug addict or chronic liar?

The specific who and the specific what doesn’t matter; it’s all bad.

I can tell you how you feel: depressed, angry and betrayed.  I want to whoop somebody and hard.

This has happened to me before–several times in fact–but yet I am still surprised when the darkness of man eclipses the light.  I am still shocked when addictions and impulses become somebody’s twisted definition of normal.

Many will be harmed.  Generations will be cursed.  Victims, family and friends, even neighbors and colleagues–their lives are changed forever.   Why can’t people understand that there is a ripple effect to their actions that extend far beyond their limited vision?

I am battling the cynicism that is circling my heart. I am trying to silence the voice in my head that says, “People are evil and can not be trusted.”  I am asking God to help me forgive.

But until God has placed his healing hand upon my spirit, until God has taken all the fire out of my tongue and rage out of my fists, I pray that God will keep this fool out of my way.  An encounter with me right now would be a very bad idea.

Jesus, be a 2×4 upside their head until the good sense that left finds it’s way back in.

What about you; have you ever felt betrayed by someone?  How did you get over it?  

© 2011, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

Being a mother is joyous.  And being a mother is heart-wrenching.  What’s that quote?  Something like, “it’s like having your heart walk around outside your body.”

A heart can get pretty abused that way.

The first time they don’t cry when you leave them with someone else.  The first time they drop your hand and run to catch up with a friend.  The first time they wax poetic about their favorite teacher/babysitter/other special adult with the same rapture that was previously reserved for you.

Your heart breaks, just a little, with each milestone of independence and each snip of the apron strings.  But you shake it off and solider on.  After all, isn’t this your job?  Aren’t you raising them to leave you one day?

At first it happens slowly in early childhood, with enough recovery time to adjust to this new level of parenting.  Get your wig on straight again.  But then during the teen years it’s a full blown assault.  Bam! Bam!  Bam!  There are new adjustments and negotiations that happen at an alarming rate.

At this time, you fully understand the phrase “with my heart in my mouth.”  It’s there so no one can hear you scream.

I’ve been the mother of a teen for a few years now and just like parenting a smaller child, it’s both joyous and heart-wrenching.  Sometimes within the same day.  But I roll with it.  I have learned to take the hugs when I can get them and not take it personal when I don’t.  I have learned to listen when he talks and not take it personal when he doesn’t.   Sometimes he wants to spend time with the family and sometimes he would rather be with friends.  I don’t take it personal.

That’s the key to being the mother of a teen and keeping your heart in tact–don’t take anything personal.

Except this.  This I am taking personal.

How can I not?

I’ve read the books out loud to him since he was 5 years old.  Every. Single. Book.  Even the last books when he was more than old enough to read on his own.

I’ve been to bookstore parties, played trivia games and bingo.

I’ve stood in line–at midnight–with hoards of other fanatics.

I’ve taken him to every movie.

I’ve bought every dvd and watched the movies again.  And again.

I admit, I’ve enjoyed reading the books as much as any kid and I am a fan even without my son, but I love that this was something that we experienced together.  His dad could not follow our long detailed conversations and nor did he try.  This was “our thing”–just us two–for over 10 years.

As I read the last page of the last book I was sad to have that time come to a close.  Yes, I would miss that world, but mostly I would miss sharing that world with my son.

But at least we still had the movie, the last movie, to extend that time together, right?

Wrong.

My son just informed me that he wants to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with friends.

“But” I said,  my voice sounding small, “that’s our thing.”

Let me say that I think kids should want to spend time with friends.  I encourage it.  It’s healthy and expected but how can he be okay seeing Harry Potter with anyone else but me?

“Sorry,” he said.

He didn’t sound sorry.

He sounded perfectly okay seeing Harry Potter with anyone except me.

Sure, I’ll see the movie.  Alone or with my husband who will keep asking questions because he didn’t read the books and knows nothing about Harry Potter, but will feel sorry for me.   Or maybe with my friend, a Harry Potter fan with children still too small to share her passion.

Either way, it won’t be the same without my son.

I get it; he’s growing, changing and finding his own way in the world.  Trying on who he wants to become.  I fully support that, but sometimes it’s hard to find common ground and I miss how close we used to be.  But at least we had Harry.  Harry and the Wizarding World was always an easy thing between us.

I know that we will be close again one day, when he feels that he’s himself enough to be mine again.  And we’ll find new interests to share.   But we’ll never have Harry again.  That bond is, sadly, prematurely, over.

Can someone please come take this knife–er, Gryffindor sword–out of my heart?

***************

Other posts about me & The Boy that you may like:

A Great Day With The Boy

*Just when I am burnt from blogging, I write from the heart and get an awesome response you, the Funkidivagirl.com community; thanks so much.  Also Blogher liked this post so much that they paid me to syndicate it on their blog!  Read it there and check out other great blog posts too.

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.

I am not a Baby Person.  (I mean other people’s babies; of course I love my babies.)   I will pinch their fat legs and say “awww” at their universal cuteness, but I won’t ask to hold your baby.   I’m good.  I like my clothes without spit-up and prefer the smell of fresh air to poopy diapers.

I like dogs in the same way that I like babies: I notice, I coo, I pet them if they look well-groomed, but I won’t let your dog lick my face; I can only guess where his tongue has been.   I’m sure his breath smells bad and he may have fleas.

But my dog, MY DOG, I love.  I kiss him, rub his belly and snuggle his nose.  He may have fur (and fleas and stinky breath) and I know where his tongue has been (ewww) but he’s more than a dog to me, he’s family.  He’s home.

The last few years have been stressful for me.   It was pretty traumatic moving away from my beloved New Jersey town and although we have been in Georgia now for 7 years, it still doesn’t feel like home.   I live here, but I’m not rooted.   Adding Chili Dawg to our family last year made me feel a bit more anchored.

Of course I have a human family that I care for everyday.  I plan, I cook, I drive, I play.  I love and propel them towards their dreams.  It’s both what I love to do and feel called to do.   But they are humans and as such they are complex creatures intellectually, physically, emotionally and spiritually.   Those relationships are as rewarding as they are exhausting.

Humans: can’t live without ‘em and can’t throw yourself off a cliff when they get on your nerves.

But my relationship with Chili Dawg is wonderfully simple: I love on him and he loves on me.   That’s it.  No words, no deeds, no negotiations necessary.

That’s love.  That’s home.

© 2010, Funkidivagirl.com. All rights reserved. Republished only with permission.