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 up about it.
What is a hustler to do with screaming beauties at 3 AM? Well, this may be where the similarities end but I certainly kept hustlin' to make my girls happy.
This goes not just for the early morning hours. All day I feel like I'm in a constant negotiation - trying to decide how high I'm willing to go, how high is just enough, and whether my screaming beauty is bluffing me. I can usually bribe the big beauty back to bed. I start with "when we wake up we'll play with fill in the blank toy." When that doesn't work, I break out "when we wake up we'll watch fill in the blank cartoon." If the screaming continues, I have to make that hustler call - do I give in and raise the stakes or do I stand firm and risk losing the ground I've made. Do I offer donuts? Do I offer to go to the park? Do I offer to let her watch a whole feature length film with popcorn? Do I offer a new toy? I gotta play it just right, otherwise I'm going to be obligating myself away and she is still going to be wide awake asking for the "big bed." Dare I even consider breaking down and giving in on that one? How hard a line in the sand is this child going to draw? Hustlin'.
And I hustle like this all day - "if you get dressed we can...," "if you get in the car without crying we can..." "if you potty in the potty like a big girl we can..."
With the little one I just have to act like an interntational hustler since we don't yet speak the same language. I spend my days and nights trying to guess what she is screaming about and offer her whatever I can to keep her happy.
Then after a weekend of hustlin', here I sit feeling like I have been at an all night party (not sure what the appropriate hustler term is for such an event). My eyes have dark circles, my synapses are only firing at half-speed, and there isn't enough coffee in the world to change any of that. This is the really rough side of hustlin' that even the hustlers don't sing about - it's exhausting.
But in the end it's worth it - I may not get the bling, and the rings, and the cash money money, but I get to be mommy to the two most amazing little girls that have ever been put on this Earth and that is worth all the gold in the world so I'll keep up my hustlin' 'till the day I die.
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 up about it. What is a hustler to do with screaming beauties at 3 AM? Well, this may be where the similarities end but I certainly kept hustlin' to make my girls happy.
This goes not just for the early morning hours. All day I feel like I'm in a constant negotiation - trying to decide how high I'm willing to go, how high is just enough, and whether my screaming beauty is bluffing me. I can usually bribe the big beauty back to bed. I start with "when we wake up we'll play with fill in the blank toy." When that doesn't work, I break out "when we wake up we'll watch fill in the blank cartoon." If the screaming continues, I have to make that hustler call - do I give in and raise the stakes or do I stand firm and risk losing the ground I've made. Do I offer donuts? Do I offer to go to the park? Do I offer to let her watch a whole feature length film with popcorn? Do I offer a new toy? I gotta play it just right, otherwise I'm going to be obligating myself away and she is still going to be wide awake asking for the "big bed." Dare I even consider breaking down and giving in on that one? How hard a line in the sand is this child going to draw? Hustlin'.
And I hustle like this all day - "if you get dressed we can...," "if you get in the car without crying we can..." "if you potty in the potty like a big girl we can..."
With the little one I just have to act like an interntational hustler since we don't yet speak the same language. I spend my days and nights trying to guess what she is screaming about and offer her whatever I can to keep her happy.
Then after a weekend of hustlin', here I sit feeling like I have been at an all night party (not sure what the appropriate hustler term is for such an event). My eyes have dark circles, my synapses are only firing at half-speed, and there isn't enough coffee in the world to change any of that. This is the really rough side of hustlin' that even the hustlers don't sing about - it's exhausting.
But in the end it's worth it - I may not get the bling, and the rings, and the cash money money, but I get to be mommy to the two most amazing little girls that have ever been put on this Earth and that is worth all the gold in the world so I'll keep up my hustlin' 'till the day I die.
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