Archive for True PBG Story

A is for Adoption, Amazing and [Happy Birthday] Alex!

by ThePBG on December 10th 2011
in Family, featured, True PBG Story
tags: Alex, Family, Friends, Happy Birthday, love

Adoption. I know you’re thinking about when a couple that wants to have a child chooses for one reason or another to take little one into their family that wasn’t born to them to love and cherish ’til death do they part. I love adoption. I think it is one of the most awesome things that anybody can do. Whenever I happen upon a family that has an adopted child, I ask about their adoption story, just like I ask Mommies about their birth stories. I swear, those are the best tales of love to me.

I have an adoption story of my own I’d like to share:

About 4 years ago (maybe 5?), I met a beautifully snarky young man in the mean streets of MySpace. He was smart, gorgeous to look at, one of the BEST writers I’d ever seen anywhere and gay as an Easter Parade. His name was Alex and I must admit, that I fell in instant e-Love with him. Before Alex and I even met in person, we became each other’s biggest fans. Our chat sessions were the stuff of legend and eventually graduated to amazing phone calls. This Mutual Admiration Society of Two had plenty hoes #jellis. Our combined Greatness shone like the finest cubic zirconia from the depths of the MySpace gutters. We had to take it offline, because the Internet could no longer contain us.

I organized a party for another friend of mine in DC for her birthday, and invited quite a few folks who were in our circle, but not in DC. Of course I invited this Special Young Man. He was living in New York City at the time and it was only a hop-skip and jump to get down here. He decided (after a bit of trepidation, I later found out) to come on down and the moment he appeared on my doorstep, I knew he was indeed a keeper. I flung my arms around him and embraced into my ample bosom, declaring him My Family. Oh, how I love My Alex.

This Amazing young man is now my nephew, the one I found on the Internet and subsequently adopted. Alex is Amazing because he has lived/survived a life that most folks couldn’t fathom. Alex is Amazing because he writes in a way that leaves folks experiencing every emotion that a human could have. Alex is Amazing because chases dreams and Red Velvet Cake and allows me to live vicariously through him. Alex is Amazing because of his Love for his actual family and for me, the Old Lady that decided to take him on without even asking for permission.

The truth of the matter is that I had to make Alex my family. It’s just too hard to refer to someone that I care about as much as I care about him as just “a friend”.

Alex is in Panama now, exploring his roots, teaching English, absorbing the culture and prolly messin’ around with somebody…with his fast tail self. Right before he left, he came to visit me and reassure me that he’d be OK going off on his next life adventure. Here’s a few pics from the last time we took to the streets of DC together:

Wooohooo! Look at us...being FAHN!

So adorable.

Nova was there too! I love when my important friends meet each other & get along. It's a wonderful magic.

"Me: You so beautiful. Alex: So are you. Me: I know."

Smooches!

Today is Alex’s birthday. I just wanted to tell him yet again, how important he is to me, how much I love him and how glad I am he agreed to be a part of my clan.

~pbg

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“Smile For Me. NOW, DAMMIT!!!”: Power Plays vs. Authentic Joy

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by ThePBG on November 12th 2011
in featured, Lifestyle, My Voice, Randomness, True PBG Story, Women
tags: DC, FAIL, holleration, Life Lessons, Metro Shenanigans, things that piss me the EFF off, Women

Yesterday I was out with my daughter who is 17 years and 9 months old. We had gone thrift shopping yet again and were getting on the bus to first stop at IHOP to eat some pancakes, then go back home. This is a regular thing for us to do, since I refuse to own a car. I’m DC to the bone and I see those Auto-Mo’-Bills for what they are. Word.

At any rate, we lined up behind other folks getting on the bus ahead of us and as usual, I was digging through my gigantic purse to find my fare card. I found it as I began to step up on the bus. Before I could scan my card, the bus operator looks right at me and says

“You lookin’ all mean! Why you ain’t smilin’?”

Excuse me, Sir? What?

I stood where I was, smiled and said “Oh, what…do I owe you a smile today? Is that going to make you feel better? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

The bus driver, a Black man, looked at me and shook his head in disgust. Seriously, he was REAL MAD with my response.

Son, I can’t help you. I don’t even owe you anything, but since you were so bothered with my general countenance, enough so to comment on my lack of a smile, I gave you a lil’ something. But a smile isn’t what he wanted. What he wanted was a segue to a conversation with me. He wanted me to smile not because he wanted me to be happy or appreciate air in my lungs or the sun up in the sky. He wanted me to smile so he could feel comfortable furthering his agenda of holleration at a Pretty Black Girl Who Probably Needs A Man Cuz She Shops At The Thrift Store And Rides The Bus With Her Kid. Dot Com.

He was disgusted with me when his attempts at creating an “In” where one didn’t exist before didn’t work. Dudes be pissed off when their Power Plays don’t work. When the Power Plays don’t work, it’s not because their timing is off or the lady just prefers not to be bothered at the moment, it’s because Black Women are “angry” and don’t know how to take a compliment or appreciate attention, ANY ATTENTION. Even from socially awkward, self-important Metro Bus operators. We ain’t shyt cuz we’re not interested. Help me, Holy Ghost. Again, I don’t owe anybody anything, least of all a smile.

A Sista can’t just rest her face in these mean streets cuz we ALWAYS have to be at the ready to make SOMEBODY else comfortable with our presence, and the only acceptable Black Girl is one that is wide open for whatever…a smiley one. But guess what? We smile when we’re good n’ damn ready and for a myriad of reasons. Authentic smiles are better:

Shout out to the Beautiful Girls on Tumblr who sent me their authentic smiles. Smiles that don't necessarily mean they wanna talk to a pressed man. Remember that.

I sat on the bus with my daughter and talked about this with her a little, since she’s a Pretty Black Girl and has to deal with this and other kinds of “commentary” as she comes and goes on her own. #StreetHarassment. #TeachableMoments. She has to be ready for what the world will attempt to impose upon her. When we got off the bus, he tried it again:

You still lookin’ all mean!

As much as I wanted to snap back, I just ignored him. I had to be a good example for my daughter because snapping back at a pressed man on the wrong day could get a woman dead. Hell, IGNORING a pressed man on the wrong day could get a woman dead, but that right there is a lesson for another day.

~pbg

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Working 9 to 5: Readjusting and Perpetually Tired

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by ThePBG on September 21st 2011
in featured, My Voice, True PBG Story
tags: 9 to 5, I'se Tahd Bawse, random, What's My Sleep Number So I Can Put It On Speed Dial

OMG. I just want to go on and on and on about how much I love my new job and how happy I am to be there. Because, I really am. I work at a great place and the staff and families there are so awesome. But I can’t go any further than that. You know why?

Because I am SO DAMN TIRED!!

I am absolutely exhausted. I’ve been going nonstop since last Thursday night, getting up and out EARLY on my beloved DC buses, thanks to the doula training last weekend and starting the new job with no break in between. I feel like I’m sleepwalking the majority of the time. Like I’m liable to fall asleep ANYWHERE!!

I don't know who this kid is, but I definitely feel her pain.

I didn’t really get to ease back into workin’ 9 to 5 (well, 8:30-5:30). I just jumped head first into the deep end. When I get home in the evening, I RUN to my bedroom, put on my pajamas and hop in bed. It isn’t even 9:30pm right now and I am in bed like I’m 8 years old. I’m TIRED!!

I am so glad to be re-employed but I MISS my late nights and my daytime naps. I feel like I’m somebody else with all this “going to bed at a decent hour” business. I know I need as much rest as possible going to work with the babies everyday, but I didn’t anticipate this level of exhaustion. This readjustment period is really wearing me out. I just want to sleep in, soon. VERY SOON.

But, not until Sunday, since my first weekend on this wonderful job of mine, I have mandatory curriculum training.

*sigh*

I’m going to bed.

~pbg

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My Experience With The ICTC Full-Circle Birth Companion Training

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by ThePBG on September 19th 2011
in Culture, featured, My Voice, True PBG Story, Uncategorized
tags: Book Learnin', Community, families, Health and Wellness, Healthy Moms & Healthy Babies, I'm The Doula, SisterFriends

I did it! I’m a doula!!

Check out that certificate.

Well, a “provisional” doula, anyway. The Full-Circle Birth Companion training that I completed this past weekend through the International Center for Traditional Childbearing is just the first leap forward in this journey to doula that I’m on. Now I have to complete a series of writings, reading and class audits as well as attend five births and three postpartum visits in the next two years to be fully certified. I’m giving myself a year, because I know I can get it done in that time.

The class was wonderful. From the very first opening prayer and singing of the Black National anthem, I knew that this was the experience I needed to become the doula that I want to be. Our instructor, Mama Shafia Monroe, the President and Founder of ICTC was warm, loving, knowledgeable and shared a wealth of information with us from preconception health and self-awareness to postpartum family care. We were blessed to have Mama Claudia Booker, a veteran doula and healer and aspiring midwife come in and teach us all about medical terminology, labor and birthing and techniques to help the mother deal with the side effects of her mind, heart and body birthing her baby. She was SO funny with all her props and charts, but she gave us some REAL DEAL information and instruction on how to deal with almost any scenario that could come up during labor and birthing, whether it be at home, in a birthing center or in a hospital. My mentor, Therese Robinson, birth doula and massage therapist taught us about the business of being a doula AND provided us with a yummy lunch on the last day of training.

I can’t describe how fortunate I feel to have been a part of this amazing and worthwhile experience. I wouldn’t change one thing about it. As much as I learned about becoming a doula, I learned just as much about myself: why I feel so called to this profession, what I have to offer my community, what my challenges are and most of all, who will support me in this. To everyone, I say “thank you”.

Here are few pics from the training this weekend, courtesy of fellow student doula/new sister-friend, Ayanna: