Only You

You got what I want…only you

You got what I need…only you

I ain’t never had nobody

Love me like you do

I ain’t never had nobody

Please me through and through

I ain’t never had nobody

Talk to me this way

Nobody even comes close

When it comes to loving me

I ain’t never had nobody

Love me like you do

I ain’t never had nobody

Get me the key to the door

I ain’t never had nobody

Take away my troubles

When I’m down and out, 

You come running on the double. 

My love

Only you

Diary of a Woman Alone

Am I in love or simply infatuated? Do I really need the attention so badly? Why do I excuse the mistakes, neglect, oversights from one but not another? 

I don’t believe that I can expect the same from someone when there is no commitment. But I still want what I want. I want you to answer when I call whether we are going to see each other or not. 

My obsession is because I have a craving. There’s a hole that I can’t fill. 

Week 2 of The More I Lose – Kill BoBo!

Wedding Shot

Believe it or not, my children are a big reason why I am so motivated to lose weight.  Not for the reasons that most people share. Sure, I want to be here to see them graduate, launch successful businesses and careers, marry, have children and become the female leaders of our country and this world that we are raising them to be.  I absolutely want to see these accomplishments and so much more.  However, it’s not the motivation for my weight loss today.  I’m motivated because of my children’s friend “BoBo”!

BoBo is the name my girls have given my stomach.  When I announced my plans to lose weight, our youngest daughter looks up at me with her big brown eyes and says in her saddest voice, “No, Mummy!  Don’t get rid of BoBo!”


And she repeats, “Don’t get rid of BoBo!”

“Who is BoBo?” I ask.

She immediately begins to rub my tummy, looking from my stomach to my face, right into my eyes. I didn’t know how to respond at first.  Was she serious? I’m thinking.  She can’t possibly have named my stomach.  And as if she could read my mind, she responds to my unvoiced questions.

“You can’t get rid of BoBo.  Who will I have to lay on?  He’s my soft, comfortable pillow.”

I couldn’t believe it.  Here is my 7-year old child, almost in tears for an unhealthy, not-so-sexy, round of mound in the middle of my body – and she’s named it.  I just could not believe it!

So I try to explain that my rotund stomach was a sign that Mummy is unhealthy.  That I have to lose the inches in my midsection and lose some weight to be more healthy so that I can have more energy, live longer, be able to play more with she and her sister, and be a more happy Mummy.  I tried to explain in terms that an intelligent elementary student would understand.  After-all, I have always been very open and honest with our children.  I explained and she listened, looking at me as if she were taking in every word.  She appeared to comprehend my need to lose the weight, get healthy and thus be happier.

“Do you understand?” I asked.

“Yes, Mummy! I understand.” she sighed as she turned to continue playing on her Nook.  Then she calls out to her sister and proclaims, “Mummy’s gonna kill BoBo!”

All I could do was shake my head and walk away. My daughters have declared their mother a murderer because she wants to lose weight. What in the world!


Well, I am happy to report that I am using my Plexus Pink Drink and BoBo has lost 3 inches in the past week.  You can order a sample at #GetExcited

Happy Birthday, Mr. Anderson

After the Navy Yard shooting on Monday, I spent a lot of time thinking, meditating and praying! I thought about how grateful I am for grace, family and friends and life. I meditated on those things that I do well and can do better. I prayed for everyone that experienced loss on Monday whether through death, injury or just plain fear. Then I reflected on what I could do to make a difference, because that’s what makes us different from the animals. We, as humans, have the ability to reason, to evolve, to improve.

No, today is not Mr. Anderson’s birthday, but we did celebrate 50 years in 2013.  Since we couldn’t agree on a 50th birthday party, we agreed to a 50th year celebration.  Well, we’ve been celebrating for 9 months and as I begin this new blog, I am starting anew by doing something that I’ve never done. I’m sharing my daily struggle with life. I won’t demean it and give it a name or title because you can’t put it in a box like elation or depression or hormones or joy or exhaustion. It’s none and all of those things. I struggle regularly to get out of bed, go to work, manage my household, educate my children, be a good steward of our finances…the list goes on.  The point is that I struggle. Despite what people see, despite the person that I emanate, I struggle.  And it’s okay!

KAA_fav1On my husband’s actual birthday, I should have been excited, but I wasn’t.  First, I didn’t feel well. It was his birthday and we couldn’t celebrate because I was sick.  Sucks, right?! In addition, we are polar opposites when it comes to birthday celebrations. He has never had a birthday party and refuses one now at 50 years old!  Not everyone lives to see the BIG 5-0, so I thought that we should celebrate him, his life, what he means to the children and to me.  He just wanted to go to work.

However, I was taught as a child that it is nobody’s business if we can’t agree and might even “fuss” about it. I was taught that some things are personal and not to be shared. It’s a lesson that I learned well.

2013 is the year that I break with tradition and share my struggles. It’s not that I don’t believe that privacy has its place. It absolutely does; but sharing is about healing, and we all need healing. So good or bad, right or wrong, up or down, I share!