Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

I don't want to spend too much time on my story. If you follow this blog you already know the story. BUT- in case you don't know the story: I married a man I had no business marrying but love and wanting to do the "right" thing as you see fit at the time can get you into a land of trouble. So, I'm at the intersection of Terrible Avenue and Mistake Drive. I share two children with a man that I describe as a co-worker who really should have been fired a long time ago. It's like that fool in the other department that you deal with ever so often and you each time you see them you say to yourself: "I can't believe they didn't fire that @$$hole." The hardest thing for me dealing with someone who see as irresponsible and disinterested in parenting their children is continuously attempting to work with this person although I don't even care to speak to them. My kids are at an age where they can not make arrangements with him independent of me ...

We were taking the clothes out of the dryer again. She used to let me help because I liked to. As she stooped to retrieve our garments, she resembled a wilting flower. She was beautiful but she was beginning to droop a bit, no longer the robust mother I remembered. I couldn't remember when exactly she began to look so weathered. "You going to help me or not?" She clucked sharply. She didn't yell as much as she used to. She just liked to remind me she can. While folding the clothes, I glanced toward the paintings on the wall. She followed my eyes and quickly returned to her task. Her brow was furrowed, she just wanted to do the laundry. "Mommy, you ever going to paint again?" I asked. "I don't know. ...No time." She mumbled as she looked longingly at her artwork displayed on our wall. This time she stopped folding. She didn't want to fold anymore. She wanted to look at her pictures. Pictures of regal women, tropical paradises, and tranqu...