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God Bless the Child that's got his own.

Ok this is a quick post just because my daughter made this seared salmon salad the other night that was straight out of a Top Chef elimination round.
I'm quite fucking proud.

My mother is really not a good cook at all. No, no don't get me wrong. Everything she cooks is delicious! And I love her. And all 156 lbs of me bears witness to the fact that she kept me fed and happy my whole life.

But there weren't things like "searing" going on. It was more of a, "mix this hamburger helper packet into the ground beef" and indulge my G, kinda of cooking.

So as I"m sitting here, not only trying to make myself a better woman, but to make my DAUGHTER a better woman, I went ahead and bit the bullet and paid for a Blue Apron subscription. So we can both learn. And grow. And have fun. Together.

I was talking with my friends the other day, and it's really amazing in life the journey that friendship takes you on.
Everything I know today about being a woman, someone taught me.

I picked up so many habits and tips from my friends and relatives that the lines are blurred.

And I think that's exactly how life should be.

You should pick up little bits of goodness and genius from everyone you meet and become better.

Gardening tips, all from my mom. Which, she got all from my grandmother.
Hostessing tips, all from Emily.
Decorating tips, that's all Desiree.
Motherhood tips, Monica all day.
Wife Tips, all Esther Dorsey. RIP.

You can see little influences of the people you are around, reflected in your every day life.

So much so, that when I went to pick up Olivia at her dad's house the other night, she had a vase full of fresh flowers on her dresser.
The only fresh living flower in that whole house. What 11 year old is spending their allowance on flowers from the 7-11 to make "nice" bedroom like moms. I mean really.

And I almost cried. Because that is OUR thing. That's all me right there.

It's very true that children don't listen to what you say, they listen to what you DO.
And I'm so happy that I can sleep well at night knowing that my child is learning from me. And growing with me.
And isn't that just the point of all this? As long as I keep coming up with this damn rent payment, we gonna keep on prospering.
That's the stress of adulthood. That's the pressure of single parent. Money doesn't buy happiness of course, but it sure does keep you comfortable enough so you can actually enjoy life, and not just exist.

One day, there will be some fine ass mixed girl, serving up a dope ass cheese plate and champagne offering, listening to Billie Holiday and wearing a kimono. And motherfuckers are gonna call her fancy and bougie because they are intrigued but scared. Because she's gonna be deeper than anyone you've ever met in life. And there will be layers to unfold, that only the most intelligent, worthy man will have time for. Just like her mother.
The legacy will never end.



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