If there was ever a week I wanted to throw away, this one is a strong contender. This week broke my heart, y’all.
First, I needed a few days to recover from all the birthday hoopla. And just when I thought I was catching my second breath, I heard about the murder of Ahmaud Arbery. And just like that, throw this week in the trash.
The rest of the week was filled with anxiety attacks, nightmares, long FaceTimes and phone calls with friends checking in. It was beyond exhausting. And as heartbroken, tired, and scared as I was, it doesn’t even begin to compare to what Ahmaud’s mom must be feeling. Through the exhaustion and anxiety, I still got to hug and kiss my children. She does not.
Friday, we went for a family run in honor of Ahmaud. We had “the talk” with our daughters before we headed out and TD2 asked, “What if somebody shoots us while we’re running?” I was speechless. While on our way back, TD3 screamed for over a mile at the top of her lungs. She was inconsolable. Several times, I wondered if our neighbors would have pity on me as a mom of a baby or if someone would call the cops on me. And if they did, did TD3 look enough like me to convince the cops that she was mine?
A year and a half ago, I bought “Something Happened in Our Town: A Child’s Story About Racial Injustice,” for the TDs, more than likely after a shooting. We’ve read it a few times and talked about it since then. It breaks my heart that this book is even needed in 2020 because as TD2 also reminded us during our talk, “Dr. King marched and they killed him so that white people would stop shooting black people.” If only racism had truly died with Dr. King, maybe we all would be living out his dream right now.
As if this wasn’t anxiety-inducing enough, I had to go out with TD3 for her 7-month shot…with a mask on. Thankfully, the ones I ordered from Sprinkle Dazzle Collective came in the nick of time, which helped ease my anxiety a little about going out. It was short-lived once I got to the doctor’s office and saw everyone on the streets with their masks, too. But we managed to make it to the doctor and back without any problems.
Then later that night, the universe heard the black community’s collective cry, Erykah Badu and Jill Scott gave our souls the medicine we needed this week. When their “battle” was first announced, I told T-Daddy that that’s what I wanted to do for Mother’s Day…and I wanted to dress up like a real date night. We dressed up and we sang and danced our hearts out in our entertainment room for three hours. Except for the celebrities turning up with us on Instagram, we had no interaction with the outside world.
It was lovely and amazing. And just what I need after such an emotionally exhausting week. Happy Mother’s Day to me.