Chapters (43)
- WAHIDA CLARK PRESENTS:
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- 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.