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Chapters (43)
  1. WAHIDA CLARK PRESENTS:
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. Chapter Thirty-Four
  36. Chapter Thirty-Five
  37. Chapter Thirty-Six
  38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  41. Chapter Forty
  42. Chapter Forty-One
  43. Wahida Clark on Mental and Behavioral Health

I still had plenty of baby weight to lose. I honestly thought I would’ve snapped back by now. Especially since I was breastfeeding and my little fat momma was six weeks old. She was already giving me attitude. My boobs looked and felt like half gallon jugs. All I can say is ugh. Don’t get me wrong. I was enjoying the bonding and naturalness of nursing, but damn! I was living in Trae’s big pajama shirts. But for tonight, I did my hair and even slapped on a bit of makeup, which was not my thing. I hadn’t put on any real clothes since the baby shower. I didn’t even know what size I wore.

We lucked up and got the kids tucked away a little after nine. Which felt like a complete relief more than any other night we put them to bed. I guess because we were actually doing something together for fun. We all reported to the living room in our jammies with our comforters and pillows. It looked like a real sleepover, just how we used to do it. It brought back great memories and I could honestly say it felt damn good to be with my girls despite our current circumstances.

Kyra connected her Bluetooth to Shaheem’s Beats Pill speaker for me. I was streaming from Tidal, my main man Cool DJ Red Alert and it was on! Everyone hit the floor.

My C-section had me a little nervous to get down like that, so I volunteered to be the DJ and kept all of my favorite music in rotation. Yes, I am a selfish DJ. I was playing what I wanted to hear. I had to laugh at my girls busting their dance moves. It made me realize we were getting older, but we were still young at heart. Fuck that shit! Angel was talking about dirty thirty. Thirty ain’t old, and we ain’t even there yet! Shit, thirty is the new twenty! Period!

I put on Cardi B’s Bodak Yellow and all the hood rat came out of each one of us. Tongues hanging out, asses shaking and hips gyrating while screaming, “Money moves!” on cue. You couldn’t tell my girls shit! We were bad as hell and we could still get down! I enjoyed hearing them laugh. It made me feel free. It made me feel like everything was okay and that I had not a worry nor a care in the world. I knew they felt the same way. We needed this party.