Tag: finish the sentence friday

All Mixed Up

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, I haven’t written a personal piece in a while. So many life changes have been happening and I was struggling to figure out how to continue.

Quite frankly, I was trying to figure out whether I would continue this venture, this blog.

I haven’t known what to say here for a long time. I don’t like controversy. Although I love my kids, I don’t particularly like spending a lot of time talking about them.

Then there’s work. I consider myself a “jill of all trades”. I know a little about a lot of things. Enough to make an income with any of them. If I took some time, I could make a substantial income from several of them.

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Cruising to a Life Together | #FTSF

The Year 2007 was an eventful year for me.

Jeff and I got married.

We had our second son.

We went on our first vacation as a couple.

And much, much more.

Our first vacation together was a cruise to the Bahamas. I had never been on a cruise and was so excited to go.

At the time, our son spent a significant amount of the summer with his grandparents. Those grandparents are one of the reasons we moved to Florida.

Cruising to a Life Together | #FTSF | AprilNoelle.comWe dropped Bunny off with them and headed for the cruise.

Getting on was a breeze and our cabin was on the water.

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Blessings through a Pregnancy Story

April Noelle and Bunny | AprilNoelle.com

One day, over five years ago, my husband and I made a conscious decision for me to become a stay at home mother with the birth of our next child. This was by no means his push, it was completely mine. Being a mom who did the majority of the cooking, cleaning and child-raising were wearing on me and I was just tired.

More than that, I was an awful wife.

And I probably wasn’t that great of a mother.

My husband worked long hours and made it home most nights to put our son to bed.

For me, it was too much.

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A Long, Long Time Ago

A long, long time ago, I wrote stories. I wrote stories about finding lost jewels, having tons of friends, and starting my own business. I wrote stories about dreaming and happiness and disappearing into a world far away, in alternative dimensions. I dove into a world that I wrote instead of lived.

Now, I don’t really write those stories anymore. I’m not sure if it’s that I don’t have time, or I don’t find the same inspiration as I did before. But the creativity simmers beneath the surface, only wishing that I could figure how to write, raise my children and clean the house all at the same time.

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I’ll Take Confidence for $2000

My soul yearns to have the confidence that I once had. I used to live by my personal motto:

If You Don't Ask, The Answer is Already No | Building Self-Confidence | AprilNoelle.com
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It wasn’t until I wrote this post that I realized I had forgotten this.  I felt like a walking contradiction.

On one hand, I was extremely shy when dealing with personal talents, where I could thrive in front of people, public speaking, self-promotion, and singing. I didn’t. I shied away from any of the opportunities.

On the other, I felt I could conquer the world and get anywhere I wanted to. I would do things that my friends never thought of… like asking to get into a club for free (which I always did) and sending resumes to local law firms for a job that they didn’t know they had (landing a job for $15/hr while going to school full-time).

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When There Are No More Words Left to Write

This is a rare week when schedules of three bibles studies collide. Three mornings, I’m busy from school drop off to after lunch. By that time, I’m tired and ready to take a nap.

This week, as well, I have been intent on actually taking the time to learn and take a class or two from the various places from which I still receive emails.

This is also the first time since consistently writing that I have messed up my schedule because I didn’t plan.

I missed it.

I missed getting out four posts this week.

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In The Morning

Two little eyes peek around the door. I know who they belong to. My little Butterfly flutters in first thing in the morning checking to see whether she should enter. She’s all smiles when she bounces onto the bed and crawls under the covers to cuddle.

This is a different Butterfly than the one that appears suddenly in the middle of the night, confident that she will be able to sneak into bed with me.

The next to wake is Bunny. Normally, that’s because I have to flood his room with light and noise to get him out of bed. He is the reason we are up so early… school calls. Absent from this room is a working alarm clock. Somehow, he has three and none of them make a peep in the morning. I have a sneaking suspicion that turns them off so they don’t wake him up in the morning.Tomorrow, I promise myself, I’ll get him up earlier, way before he expects it.

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Before the Fine Lines Set In…

My friends always ask me why I round up for my age. As a woman, it’s a rarity to find a woman who ages herself. I feel like I’ve done a lot, accomplished a lot and sometimes I’m really prideful about my accomplishments. On those days, I feel really old like I’ve lived three lifetimes.

Other times I feel young and youthful, mostly when surrounded by my children. They remind me that I have a lot of life left to give, youthful at heart and spirit. For some reason, I quickly forget that.

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My Little Superheroes

Sleep. Productivity. Social life. My career.

What stops me from thriving in all of these? My children.

When we lost Alexander, my life changed. Really it changed my priorities. Before it was work, social life, family. Now, it’s family, work, social life.

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My sleep disruption started with Bee, my third. Ever since her birth, she was a terrible sleeper. I tried “sleep training” her, I tried letting her cry it out, but neither was effective. The only way she would sleep is if I held her; keyword here “I”. Dad couldn’t take her, friends and family couldn’t take her. Even when my husband did manage to get her to sleep, he would lay her across his legs on a pillow, get a fan going and shook her to sleep. On one hand, she would actually go to sleep instead of cry. On the other, all of the extras made it more difficult for me to put her to sleep, who became a stay at home mom after her birth.

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Learning to Love My Natural Hair

My hair has been natural for a better part of two decades. When I chose to stop relaxing or perming my hair, “natural” wasn’t a mainstream word. More specifically, I didn’t know what natural was or how it applied to me. All I knew is that I didn’t know how to do my hair.

At the time, black women with beautiful hair fell into three categories: the silky smooth long tresses, the shorter kinkier afro or braids. None of these worked for me.

Relaxers, like perms, thinned my hair, strands covering my brushes or clogging my drains. A press-and-curl was not realistic because I was very active. I would sweat out the effort by the next day.

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My Reflection

The mirror sits idly in the bathroom taunting me, mocking me. I want to look, I want to see myself, my whole self, but often I can’t bare to look.

What I should see is the woman who graduated near the top of her high school class, to attend an awesome first tier school, to attend a great first tier law school.

What I should see is the woman who found out she was pregnant before her third year of law school, finished law school anyway, then lost my second son a couple years later and didn’t die completely inside.

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The Step that Will Change Our Marriage

Every year, I make goals.

Every year, I’m successful at some and not so successful with others.

This year is a bit different, letting you into my methods to be successful. One such goal is to have a better marriage. Let me give you a little background.

Growing up, I was not surrounded by happily married couples.

My parents seemed happy on the outside, but on the inside, they were distant. My mother content clicking away on the computer keyboard in her office while my dad, well, he was kinda just there. Even at a young age, I realized they weren’t right for each other. I couldn’t say that there was any fundamental flaw with either one of them, just that the other wasn’t a complement. Their quiet bickering in their room only affirmed my belief and so did their eventual divorce.

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