Sugar and Spice

I must say, I never truly understood the difficulty with "hustlin'" that all these rappers have been carrying on about for years.  I mean, to be honest, I am not entirely sure that I know what "hustlin'" really means, but I have something of an idea of how difficult it is after this weekend.  And, as all of the gangsters would have us know, it really is a hard job. See, over the course of this weekend I may have hit REM sleep once.  On the couch.  At 1 PM.  And even then my head only stayed on the pillow for about 20 minutes.  I, like many hustlers I imagine, spent most of the weekend nights awake.  I saw midnight, I saw 2 AM, I saw 3 AM, I saw it all.  The quietest part of my "nights" this weekend was the hour between 5 AM and 6 AM.  Even hustlers need to re-up. What was I doing during those waking hours?  Well, what is any hustler doing during the wee hours of the morning?  Dealing with beautiful babes who need something and won't hush

I feel like I got hit on the head with a large board that reads: THIS IS YOUR LIFE.   If my life were a cartoon, little animated stars would have swirled around for a few seconds and then I would have shaken myself straight and seen clearly.   For the first time.   Ever.   What I mean is this, as much as I’ve written about how much I cherish my sweet girls and love being a mother (mostly), I still haven’t actually started living my life. Let me try to explain it again. My entire existence from the time I can remember has been about accomplishments.   And I have to say, this isn’t because my parents were those crazy-competitive-ballpark parents.   They totally weren’t.   This is something innate.   Before I could do much of anything, I already forced my mother to make me a schedule to follow so I could be sure I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.   Anyone who knows my mom knows for certain the scheduling wasn’t her idea.   It’s a trait (almost a sickness sometimes)