New Mother

New Mother

Long nights and no sleep.

Watch you smile is my reward.

Love you more each day.

I can't remember the last time...

It was one of those days. I was leaving work, after working a midnight, and instead of flying home to see my growing infant I decided I needed to be at the beach. I have to admit, this is one of the best reasons to live in Miami. In fact, for me it's the only reason. Twenty minutes after making the decision, I was parking and walking towards the water.

Yes, I made a detour to Starbucks. It was morning time after all and I needed a prop so that people could speculate in the right direction as to why I was sitting on the beach in jeans and a t-shirt watching the sunrise alone. It seems that even though I say I don't care about what people say, I actually do. This concern is how I found myself needing a break from it all.

It could be the smell of the ocean, the gentle waves crashing up on shore, the grainy sand or the heat of the sun; but, this is where I find refuge. It's my way to relax and organize my thoughts without worrying what someone will say. Aside from the personal issues I will spare you from, one reoccurring thought was my writing and the fact that I don't do it anymore. I can't remember the last time, I just sat down and wrote for the fun of it. Not with a purpose, but just flowed.

Over a year ago I started an online magazine, Seven. I worked my butt off on it and started to get a good following. I also had three writers jump on board and start contributing to the piece each month. It was great. After some time, life hit and I called it quits. It wasn't all at once, but it came gradual. I tried to let it run without me, but the minute I lost focus, so did everyone else.

I find myself missing it now. I want to gain it back and I can start it up again, but where does that leave the people that started it with me? I would love to have them come back, but how do you make people believe in you again, when you lost the vision along the way? How can they trust you? 

My first step will be to lift this little dream up off the ground. Commit myself to a .com and once I find myself financially invested, it might make me more responsible with it. Maybe this will be the push they need to see that I'm committed again. At the same token... I must get down to the origin of it all. The writing. I must perfect my craft. One of the most import aspects of this, other than the writing is to read. I have to find the time in my day to sit down and actually read a book, from beginning to end. Not the halfies that I've been getting myself accustomed to. 

After everything is set for a serious comeback, only then can I truly write a letter of redemption and ask for them to come back. Hopefully, they accept because I do admire their unique writing styles and I value their opinion. But, if they don't accept, then this is something I must conquer. A goal that I must make a reality because I don't want to sit here next year and not remember the last time I did what I loved.

I finally did it...

I thought about it day in and day out. It was almost an obsession. I continued to look at myself in the mirror and wonder why. Here I was a couple of pounds lighter and I still looked the same way I did at the age of twenty-three. At what point was I going to become an adult? At what age was I going to start living the life of a real woman enjoying her thirties?

I wondered what it would look like, if I would like it, could I manage it? There were many questions lined up to knock me down, but the desire was still there. When the desire is there and the nagging feeling of "I need this" is looming in the distance, there is no stopping you. I sat down and discussed things with my other half and he finally convinced me to do it. "It's what you want to do. So what if you don't like it, it will grow back." He was right. 

The day had finally come where I needed to step back and look at the life I had lived up to this point. I know what you're thinking...this is all about a freaking hair cut? Yes, yes it is. my hair meant more to me than I don't know what. It was my comforter, it was my sex appeal, it was my shield. I wore it many different ways, but by far my favorite was when it was straight and you could see the length.

I loved the way it would flow in the wind, the way it rested in my shoulder and I loved to pull my hair from the back as I was concentrating on something. I still believe that when I was suffering from a severe writers block that little pull made all the difference.

Eventually, budget cuts hit and there was no way for me to constantly go out and blow dry my hair. It takes money to make kinky hair look nice. So, a bit of depression settled in. There was no way that I was going to blow dry that mop myself every three days. 

 I mean, come on... Look at that. Would you ever think that hair that curly could ever look straight? It does. My hair is thin, but ridiculously curly. I owe that luxury to my mixed genes. Luckily, I got more of the mom hair gene than the sperm donor, because her hair is lifeless straight and tends to lend a hand to the people who blow dry my hair. 

Anyway, let me tell you the story about when I went to the salon and finally gave in to cut my hair short. My hair dresser and I have had a ten year relationship. She and I have been through marriage, divorce, dating, and new relationships. She has been dying to cut my hair really short to give me a new look since my divorce five years ago. I always refused.

One day, I went to see her to become a red head. She loved this color on me and was dying to change it back to red (I was a severe red head years ago, think the Phoenix from X-Men). I caved and she changed it. But, since my hair was sooo long, she ran out of dye and had to re-mix another batch. The problem with this was that she didn't remember exactly how she mixed it. 

I was half asleep and didn't know what was going on, until I went to work. A co-worker of mine looked at me and said, 'Dude, your hair is two different colors.' I lost it. I didn't call her nor did I contact the salon. I knew this was on oversight on her part, but, I couldn't afford to continually go back there every other week. I was determined to find a new hair dresser.

I found one. He was amazing, he fixed my situation, but he wasn't her. His prices were great. The waiting time killed me. So, when it came down to getting my hair cut, I knew what I was going to do. I was going to call Carmen and set up an appoint and forgive her for her mistake. I was going to get my hair cut!!

 I made the appointment and showed her this picture. I want to look like Drew Barrymore, sans color. I want a short hair cut in order to cut away all the things that I have gone through in the last ten years. I WANT FREEDOM!!!! She looked at me and said, it's about time. But, are you sure. 

She knew how attached I was to my hair. Was I 100% sure, of course not. However, I couldn't handle the desire I had to get rid of my hair. The time had come for a change. Everything around me was changing. My world was starting to look brighter and I needed my hair to reflect that. 

She grabbed the scissor and cut. I'm not going to lie. At first, I was hyperventilating, but with each cut I felt lighter. I felt free. I felt more powerful that I have felt in a very long time. I was excited for the change. For every little change that I was making in my life.

I'm not going to continue to bore you with my dramatic outlook on life. Let's just say that I am happy. I do need to do a couple of other things to my hair because I didn't remember that cutting my hair smack in the middle of summer was a bit dumb on my part, seeing as the humidity in Miami and my curls don't like each other, but there isn't a day that I look back on my hair cut and doubt that I made the wrong decision. So, without further ado (is that how u spell that?)  MY BEFORE AND AFTER SHOT. 

Tell me...and be honest....WHAT DO YOU THINK?

What's it all about again?

This is going to be the year that I (fill in the blank). Yup, I have sat back and watched life happen before me, but NO MORE!! This is my year. This is going to be the year that I will finally meet my goal. There is nothing that's going to stop me. I am motivated. There is nothing... I mean absolutely nothing... that will stand in my way. I will achieve greatness in 2012!

Ok, so it's been twenty-five days into the New Year. Where do you stand? Did you find that new relationship, quit smoking, lose weight, save money? Did you become that nicer person, make more time for your family, live each day as if it were your last? Wait... let me guess, you FINALLY found that dream job and are slowly climbing that ladder to success JUST LIKE YOU ALWAYS SAID!!! Soon enough, that bank account will increase, you will be happy and you will have nothing at all to worry about. Congrats! I'm happy for you.

No really, I am happy for you. Don't focus on my frown, focus on the fact that you are headed in the right direction. I'm proud of you. Now, for the rest of you that are trying to hide your disappointment, (Not that I am, because my lips normally go down when I smile, its cool. I'm not jealous at all. For real) come take a seat next to me and lets comfort each other in the land of unkept promises and defeat.

Let's talk this thing out. What is it about the new year that creates all this excitement and potential for something new and something hopeful. Why is it that we have to wait for numbers on a calendar to change before we decided, I've had enough and things are going to change? Why? Why? Why? Here are my thoughts...stay with me on this one, I'll get to the point eventually.

So Jeter wakes up every morning and goes crazy. He jumps up on the side of the bed with this huge doggie smile and this excitement as if to say, DID YOU SEE...IT'S A NEW DAY. GET UP! GET UP! GET UP! My reaction always is..."ugh, five more minutes." Telling him that is like hitting the snooze button on an alarm. He'll be back at it, with the same innocent excitement. MOOOMMMIIEEEEE, WAKE UP! WE MADE IT! ANOTHER DAY! LET'S DO THIS!!!

Eventually, I'll get tired of his excitement, because who told you that we should be excited today. It's freaking seven in the morning. SEVEN IN THE MORNING JETER!! I'll reach over, pull him up on the bed and after he is done trying to wake me up with doggie slobber and gentle nibbling, he finally gives in and collapses in front of me. Bam...battle won and now he won't move, nor harass me until I decide it's time to wake up. I have to decide to wake up.

Ok, so now back to my point. (I told you, I'll bring you back!) Jeter doesn't care what day it is or what time it is. Once he wakes up...it's go time. He has opened the gift of life one more day and he doesn't plan on wasting it. He wakes up with the I-will-conquer-the-world-attitude and there is nothing that is going to come between him and his day of awesomeness. That is until he comes across me. The cuddler of crushed dreams. I tell him, no your not ready. But, he knows that he is. He walks away for a moment or so, but is back in my face with this c'mon lady I want this and I want it now attitude.

However, I know him. I know how to knock him down. I know how to crush his happiness and get him into that lazy state where I am comfortable and I am happy knowing he is not doing anything and I can rest knowing I am not going to miss anything and he isn't going to do anything. I grab him and I give him what he longs for. Comfort. The comfort in knowing that nothing has changed and everything has stayed exactly the same. He can conquer the world when I am ready for him to conquer the world.

Don't look at me like that. I told you there was a point to this story and I'm getting there. You see, every day is a blessing. It's one more day that you are able to make an impact in this world. You can either enter into it with a blind innocence that no matter what, you are going to be happy. You are going to meet your goals. You are going to do what you set out to do. OR you can take the opposite approach and go back to what is comfortable. You can choose to fall into the arms of days past and continue to live your life in the same routine and never experience something new.

So here's what I'm saying. Learn to let go. Don't carry that weight from 2011. Don't get disappointed if you've already gave up on your new years resolutions. It's not about a new year, it's all about a new day. Each day is an opportunity to take a step forward in life and live out one more dream, say one more thank you, one more I love you. It's all about baby steps people. **CLICHE WARNING** Rome wasn't built in a day (did I do that right?) and neither can a new you.

I leave you with this thought, before you go to bed tonight think of one thing that you don't want to do tomorrow. Fill that void with something you do want to do. Make it a point that NO MATTER what the cuddler of crushed dreams bribes you with, do it. If you give in, aim to do it the next day and the next day. You'll get it right. I promise.

2012, welcome...but it's not about you. It's all about tomorrow.