My first ticket occurred one night as I drove to my 3M internship apartment in Woodbury, MN. I was headed home from the club in my mom’s Toyota Camry when I got pulled over on 494. I received my second ticket the following summer driving with Jane’l to Kansas City, MO to see Granny Gee. We had successfully felt the tires pass over nearly 436 miles of gravel and turf. I could see the lights of downtown Kansas City as I saw the reflection of red, blue and white lights from the interior of a Chevy Malibu in my rear-view mirror. Darn! That was two speeding tickets within two consecutive years. One more and that was it for my license. Years later in Atlanta, I got pulled over going well over 80 on I-20. I think the speed limit is around 50, so technically going 30 miles over the speed limit is involuntary manslaughter. As I considered this, I began to cry and by the grace of God, I was let off with a warning. My third ticket occurred on a road trip from Philly to Pittsburgh. Hubby and I called ourselves saving money on a flight to Atlanta, and decided to drive to Pittsburgh to observe an airline promotion. Did you know that it’s an eight hour drive from Philly to Pittsburgh?? We didn’t. We decided to switch drivers after a few hours, and as soon I took the wheel I was encouraged by the wide openness of the interstate sans congestion. I asked hubby two or three times if he’d seen any troopers, and just about as he’s saying no, I see the siren lights rotating in my rear-view mirror. (Hubby’s edit of this sentence reads, “As Jolawn recklessly shoved the pedal to the floormat without abandon for public safely, she was pulled over as a consequence.”) The officer was kind enough to lower the recorded speed, so not as to reduce points on my license (still don’t really know how many points I have and what that means).

It was after this ticket that I remembered wise words from a friends’ older brother. He said that he’d never received a speeding ticket because through his friend’s errors, he had seen every type of way one could receive a ticket. So this morning, as I headed to work, I sped down I-95 trying to make it into the office before 8. As I merged onto 287, a hitched truck made me brake, and once an opening appeared, I sped around the truck. The car behind me also sped up and tip toed on my heels indicating that I was even too slow for the left hand lane. I looked to my right and a Chevy trailblazer with tinted windows, an extra side mirror a few too many antennas receded from my view. Of course, I recalled my experience with ticket number two and remembered the Chevy Malibu. I was infuriated that a policemen would dare drive a civilian car and pose as one of us, so I pulled into the middle lane to let the impatient driver receive the ticket of the day. As the tailgater accelerated past me, I smiled as the silent lights turned on and the trailblazer sped up to the car. It was the first time I would successfully avoid ticket number four.

   Send article as PDF to

I went to NYC today (and took a photo with Nick Cannon, but it was for work so it wasn’t as exciting as it sounds). Anyway, once in New York, I headed straight to Ricky’s to get shampoo and conditioner. I have had a really hard time finding good products in the Stamford area, so it was top on my agenda. I headed there with some friends, and even saw Titi and Miko walking down Broadway in Soho.

I got a few products that several of the hair blogs say are great, so I’ll let you know how they work out after I use them!

   Send article as PDF to

I have been trying not to get my hopes up with this child, but last night I had a dream that I cannot shake off. I dreamt that this little bonnet in the oven was our first girl, and she arrived in this world complication free. We were actually at home, and after she come out, I was able to get up and walk around! Talk about a dream! Immediately, I was full with nourishment and nursed her. Why would I dream that? Now, I am so excited about that possibility coming true, but… I don’t have symptoms #1 through #9, so I don’t know what to feel.

I have anticipation for being pregnant again, and I was a bit reluctant to celebrate, but after this dream I want it. I want it bad. I want to feel a baby swirling inside of me. I want the intimacy of my baby always being with me, growing in me, and feeling me. I want an infant, a cute little infant. The biggest joy of my dream was that I had a little girl. I had a mini me. I was soooo joyful in that dream. And now I wonder, was it just a dream? Or will this be my reality in September?

What do I do? Do I bombard the nearest lab and take HCG test after test monitoring my hormones. I think back to our last miscarriage. The pregnancy started out symptom free. So much so, I didn’t realize I was pregnant until my belly button started popping at eight weeks (I was still nursing eight month old Gadget at the time). This fifth pregnancy mirrors our second miscarriage so much how can I proceed on hope, when my body speaks loss to me so clearly.

I went to Target the other day and walked through the baby section. I looked for the purple dress I was going to dress my first daughter in (yes purple, never pink), and I almost bought a cute little something. But then I put it back, because imagine the heartache staring at it after yet another miscarriage. A third miscarriage. Are these really becoming common place in my life? Loss, baby, loss, baby, loss… I don’t like that trend.

Living in limbo is hard. You would think seeing the words “pregnant” on the screen would be enough for celebration. Whooaaaaaa! I gotta pause for just one second. I just heard myself. I just heard the doubt wringing off of those words. I believe the scripture says, Hope is the evidence of things unseen. I have absolutely no evidence this pregnancy will progress healthily. I don’t know what God’s plan is for this child. I don’t know if chromosomal abnormalities exist, and God took her life yesterday in a week or two, but I have been charged to believe God’s word and to live it. Right now, I am walking in faith that this baby will grow inside of me for forty weeks and arrive on this earth as a healthy and beautiful daughter. Period.

   Send article as PDF to

When do you think you will BC?
Hopefully, I can make it to at least a year. It really depends on how long my hair is. If it grows leaps and bounds over the next few months, maybe I will BC sooner. Or maybe it will be at the two year mark. It really just depends on how comfortable I am with length, but so far I have noticed I have a ton of shrinkage.

How do family and friends react to the transitioning you? What was your response to them?
So far everyone has been super supportive. But I think that’s largely in part because there hasn’t been any real outward changes due to the hairstyles I’ve chosen so far. My husband hasn’t expressed a preference for natural or permed hair. He does, however love it clean, groomed and styled. I think he believes that in my mind natural = buckwheat afro. I think to some degree I do look forward to wearing my hear in a big unruly afro one day. But that doesn’t mean it has to be my staple style. There are so many different styles to try out. My friends have pretty much all told me to go for it, except for a few that are loyal to the creamy crack, and think that straight looks best on me.

What is your transition routine?
My transition routine has consisted of going to the Dominicans every one to two weeks for a shampoo, deep conditioner and style. Now, before you criticize me, which EVERYONE does, I have found one stylist that I go to every time and she is very gentle. I bring my own products, which include ApHogee shampoo and conditioner, Carol’s Daughter Tui Hair Oil and Argon Hair oil which is a Moroccan oil. I go there because of the skill set, flexibility and value. Since some months I go weekly, I can afford the $20-25 hairstyle at that frequency. The woman that does my hair gets is straight when I want it straight, and does not pressure me to perm it. I usually go on Sundays, which works perfectly for my working mother schedule. Sometimes, on Saturdays I will co-wash at home just to play with my hair and begin to get a sense for my natural texture.

What is your staple hair style during the transition?
My staple style has definitely been the a roller set and blow out because I have been too chicken to start experimenting. From August through November I was getting the same style as when I had a perm and wrapping it with a scarf at night. Then, out of guilt of constantly straightening my hair, I started getting tighter roller sets and not blowing it out. I looked crazy! I had a billion large curls on top of my head, and didn’t really know how to style it. I have been lurking on my favorite natural hair care site, CurlyNikki, and watching youtube videos of different natural styles and styling techniques for inspiration. This past week I wore a new style that garnered tons of positive feedback. It was a transitioner’s take of the curly fro. I got a tight roller (the smallest rollers, blue, orange and yellow), and then pushed it all the back on my head into a short of pony tail. It was super cute Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday it looked a mess, but I was still receiving compliments. I will try this style out again this week because it does not require direct heat and takes less time in the salon.

How do you moisturize your hair to prevent breakage?
I don’t do anything special. I make sure to sit under the steamer with my conditioner every week, though.

Why did you choose to go natural?
Oh my! For so many reasons! My entire life I knew that one day I would eventually go natural. I love the idea of one day, wearing a wash n go. Can you imagine? I look forward to swimming and working out and being confident in my natural hair texture. I look forward to twist outs, and curly fros and twist n curls and whatever else I find that looks cute. Although, there are two real motivating factors explaining why I am currently transitioning.

After the Lion was born, I quickly stopped exclusively breastfeeding. He was born in June, and after labor day I returned to my second and final year as a fulltime business school student at NYU Stern. I was recruiting for a fulltime position as a brand manager as well, so I found myself carrying a pump to school everyday. As my milk production decreased, and I leaned more heavily on formula, I noticed the shedding begin. This did not occur with Gadget, I think because I breastfeed him for much longer. Well, the second time around, I was completely done breastfeeding at the seven month mark because we took a three week course in Australia, and I refused to pump during “my time” (I won’t make this mistake again, but today I can’t fully say that I regret that decision.) Well, the shedding accelerated. Soon, my long thick mane was sparse. There was nothing I could do to slow it down.

In May of 2009 I got a perm for graduation and then went the entire summer without a perm. When August approached and my work start date neared, I got anxious and permed the fourteen weeks of new growth I had nourished. I immediately regretted that decision. I was afraid of the tension between the two textures, and I hadn’t yet found my gentle stylist. After two or so months perm free the shedding finally slowed. I am not sure if my body took an extra long time to flush out the pregnancy hormones, or if it was an internal issue, but not getting any more perms has helped.

The second major motivating factor is that I want our children to be proud of and confident in their natural hair. I hope to one day have a daughter, and would hate to have her one day ask me why I perm my hair and not hers. I would be sending this huge message that you only look presentable with chemical alterations, and I do not want to communicate that through my behavior. So far, the transition has not been that difficult physically, although it is an emotional journey. I think that women who BC sooner have matured emotionally and mentally and are more prepared to live a life with a different look – more prepared than I am. If you think about it, it’s drastically changing your appearance, like an amputation. Clearly, my view on it is still with apprehension since I just compared going natural to losing a limb, but I think the mental consquences are just as significant. I have lived all of my adult life with a perm, and to abandon what has become a social norm, especially with my 4Cish texture, will take a big leap. Physically – next week I’ll be in Trinidad and I have no idea what to do. I have never worn fake hair: weaves, wigs, extensions, so if I get braids it will just be my hair, but I wear braids in Trinidad EVERY time. If you have advice for transition styles that can take some splashes, please let me know!

   Send article as PDF to

Everyday I log onto my admin panel, and begin a post about my real thoughts. And then I think, what if so and so reads this? And it’s not so much that I would mind, as is it, other people may mind, and I think about them. How do I write honestly and candidly if I’m writing in circles? I marvel at other bloggers who type the emotions going through them, and those words appear in the world wide web, permanently, publicly.

I want to write about the conference calls I’ve had with with my parents over the past month. Some have been good and some have been bad, but at the end of the day we are talking about our emotions. We are having conversations that we’ve never had, about thoughts and emotions that have been held in for so long they’ve poisoned us. Spending ten days with my parents this Christmas created the opportunity for this door to open. I never believed I would be able to share at this level, at this time in my life, but God has opened that door.

I harbored a lot of negative perceptions about my childhood, even though I lived an upper-middle class life. When I had good news, I always ran to one parent, and not the other. There was a reason for that, we just had a better relationship. There was honesty, and trust, and it was a two-way street. I never knew that other people had a different type of relationship with that parent, until I got older. I would hear people talk about conversations and events in their lives, and I had a completely different point of view. I had a different experience.

I could never say that I wanted that “ideal” relationship either, because it wasn’t possible with the way we were created. Now, as an adult, as a mom, as a person with clearly defined life goals, I don’t have regrets about my relationship with my parents. I have learnings, that I will make darn sure to implement, or not implement, with my own children. I have opinions about parenting that have formed into what they are because of my experiences with my parents during childhood.

It’s so difficult to write about our progress and communication, when I wonder about if their friends will read this. What if my parent’s boost about my blog to their employers, and then I write about how stinky our relationship is. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about the things I didn’t like about my parents, really. How would I feel if Gadget or the Lion criticized our relationship? Well, I would be okay with that. They are entitled to their own opinions, but I don’t get the feeling both of my parents feel that way.

I want to share all the details about what made me upset, and the progress I saw and what I learned, but what if?…. Actually, I don’t think both of them read this, just one. I could probably write it all, but what if?…

   Send article as PDF to

Hubby would be so proud of me for this shot. I adjusted the white balance and the exposure for the weather and lighting! We’re snowed in today, literally. Work and school are closed, so it’s just me and the boys.

   Send article as PDF to

For the past five or so years I was the webmaster for the Philadelphia Chapter of the National Alumnae Association of Spelman College. I started, uber excited to manage the website, because the chapter had a sizable and active membership and no website. I figured, my minimal skills were more than enough to get the chapter started with. I was a member of the organization and served with pride and sacrifice. Soon, I realized there were about fifty other chapters and a National Committee that I could avail my services to as well. The short of how this story ends is that I stretched myself way too thin and lost of focus of my passion. My passion lays in design. I loved creating a layered file in Photoshop from a vision. I wanted to design as many sites as possible, and kept reaching out to form new webmastering relationships. Before I knew it, I had three local chapters and the National Committee. I was in over my head, because I had not managed the business.

Each chapter was relying on my to update the content and photos on the site. I hadn’t had the forethought to plan on how to transfer knowledge or build the content management into the process. As a result, I resigned from my webmaster role in all the local chapters. In the end, I wasn’t providing the level of service I wanted, nor that the chapter’s needed. I learned a lot from these five years about my love for web design. I learned that I enjoy designing and not content management. I learned that leveraging robust content management systems is a must going forward. I am excited to expand my design business in due time, but most importantly I needed to learn what I was not good at.

   Send article as PDF to