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The Beast Queen, Her Spicy Love, And Their Tribe Of Blindian Offspring

 ~Book Excerpt~

When you’re living in Chesapeake, VA, nothing says the level of your street cred like riding around in your minivan drinking coconut milk, pumpkin frappuccino while listening to Tupac pregnant with your fourth child. Just thinking about that Fall 2016 moment makes me want to purse my lips and “raise the roof” at the memory. Sure I was going to throw up the frappuccino later and take a much-needed baby-making machine nap, but I was determined to enjoy my short-lived, first-world luxury.
Short-lived because it would be my one carefree, “all about me” moment before the offspring would be coming home from school. I birthed them, yes and I have the scars, mental anxiety and the weight gain from my increased wine intake (not during pregnancy…maybe a sip) to prove that I am a mother…their mother…the mother to the children that you stare at in public when I’m with them because you can’t quite figure out who their father is due to one having a short fro and the other having wavy hair past her behind. But you mentally pat yourself on the back because you have figured out one thing…they’re by the same guy LOL…sigh…
Before you also stared because I had yet to get rid of my addiction to the creamy crack and embrace my natural curls so you can’t quite decide if I’m even “all black” myself. I have a fabulous light brown sugar with a slight caramel tan look going on that can put me in a number of ethnic categories. Don’t worry though because now my fro has made it easier for you to figure out one half of the mystery. Only the “curiosity killed the cat” people ask outright. Everyone else starts to narrow things down when I say “Sahar! Mihir! Ashraya!”
Regardless they’ll be home soon and I need to make sure things are in order before I take my much needed “you still got this you superwoman you” nap.
The nap that I wake up from only to find out that my Pop Pop had passed away during it…
Life…you think it’s going one way and all you have to do is think about dinner, homework and whether or not you and your lover/baby daddy/husband will be having some sexy time and then it says “Hold up…you actually have dinner planned? Well, your pop pop has passed…here’s a car accident that’s going to keep you from dancing for years…how about some unexpected deployments…I know the doctors said that you could never have kids…”
Just like when I met The Man I was headed to California after being accepted into Cal State University of Long Beach’s dance department when life allowed my heart to say “Nope! It’s the ever-changing Mil spouse, blindian matriarch life for you…you can still dance if you’d like.”
Don’t mind if I do. I didn’t mind so much that I did. I danced. After meeting him I performed and taught the rhythmically, graceful language of the body in Indonesia, Italy, Spain, Virginia, and Massachusetts. I danced with every pregnancy. Had the children dance when they were old enough, and The Man and I would dance together in our living room. Shoot! I even danced us out of needing marriage counseling.
Once when he went out for a smoke I followed and for the next minute, I had his attention as I tap danced away complete with a broadway show tune coming from yours truly! Where was he going to go? He wasn’t about to not finish his smoke. It was the perfect way to get his attention while doing the thing I loved. Even though there wasn’t applause when I was done, that tap dance kept us from needing therapy because I no longer felt needy…tee hee hee…
But what’s the point in me bringing up dance? I mean I did start off this section with a frappuccino and needing a nap. Well, without the experiences that I am going to share with you I wouldn’t have a reason to dance. Put the thing down, flip it and reverse it and I dance because of my life experiences. Death, deployments, hospitalizations, racism, misunderstandings, hurt, celebrations, peace, faith, life. Without them, I truly wouldn’t be able to speak a language that can cross barriers and bring healing.
Quite simply life inspires me and everything about it. Especially from the unexpected point of where I would meet my Spicy Love and have our brood of blindian offspring. I’m a wife and mother who is still trying to find the perfect balance between chicken tikka and baked mac and cheese in a spaghetti and chicken nugget world, while still just trying to savor every bite of my quesadilla. Maybe my problem of trying to find the perfect balance is that it was never meant to be perfect…I’d hate to think it’s because I don’t know how to make proper chicken tikka…

Book Excerpt: About
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