Grateful Glory

I have a three year old. A roly poly, running, shrieking, hitting, biting, messy, laughing, climbing, mischievous glorious boy of three. I don’t write enough about gratefulness, or joy.

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Jalondra DavisComment

I have been trying to write another blog for three months. I had developed a concept, a style: it was to be composed of honest, ultimately empowering essays, about raising a child with special needs, from a Black feminist perspective. I was to uncover something, a lesson in each, that was universal. It was to surpass venting, complaining, bemoaning. But, these past months, I have not been able to write in that way. My life has felt very particular, a thing in which I could not find universalities, or lessons, only the struggle to reach the next day.

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Stolen Stroller, New Dreams

My stroller came up missing last week. My massive Graco click-connect stroller that I had saved up $300 in Babies R’ Us gift cards to buy, with five seat levels and a huge storage compartment underneath. I was utterly pissed. But I wonder now if it was meant to be.

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Jalondra Davis

I go to a New Thought spiritual center where we practice affirmative prayer, meditation, positive energy. Everyone is always smiling at Agape, and there is so much focus on positive energy, I have wondered sometimes, if pain was allowed. So I was very happy today, ironically, that Reverend Beckwith talked about pain. Pain as necessary to growth. It made me think about the birth of my son, and about the last two incredibly painful, but growth-inspiring two years of my life. 


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