Words

Motherhood

Motherhood

I watch my youngest son run around in the sun, shirt off, bare foot, locs flowing in the wind. His smile is like a ray of sun and his joy? It immediately pulls you in. For the moment nothing else matters except watching him flourish with innocent black boy joy. I’m here, under the warm rays of the sun, laptop on lap attempting to live up to my dubious title of work at home mom and freelancer. As I become entranced with the breeze, baby boy laughter, and husband’s dancing…I ditch wordpress for an afternoon trip to the park on 70 degree day in February.

My hair is wrapped in a turban. For the life of me I can’t get my locs to lay straight. They’re my alter ego if you didn’t know. Wild where I’m lowkey, stretching towards the sun when I want to lie low, a statement maker while I rather make my way without statement. It’s time for a nature walk. A place where I feel most a peace.

It’s quiet here, save for the sounds of my sun’s footsteps. Jumping off of this rock, trying to climb that tree. The soft sounds of the creek flowing beside us. I realize, quite randomly, that perhaps my hippie mom transformation is complete.

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