I am probably going to be an emotional wreck tomorrow but my son is turning 8 years old! Like where did 8 years go? He’ll be 10 in 2 years and its like I’m going to blink and I’m sending him off to college. I remember when I was pregnant with him and so anxious to meet him and that fear kinda set in. Am I going to be a good mom? Will I raise him right? How do you raise a kid? I was just so nervous but once I saw his face all those fears just melted away.

The state of this country today really makes me worried about raising my son. He is at the point where he is asking a lot and I meant a lot of questions and it hard to shield him from what is going on. I just want him to focus on being a kid right now and worry about his toys, candy and playing with his friends. I pray that the state of this country gets better for our children, especially being black in America. I pray that I don’t have to fear when he leaves the house, that he won’t have to deal with the ignorance or racism. This point in raising him has been a little difficult. He is growing into his independence and wanting to do things himself because he is a “big boy”. Parenting has it challenges and I am hoping we are doing the right thing, teaching him the right things, making sure he knows right from wrong. It is hard letting go in a way because he is getting so big and growing up.

It just amazes me how I brought life into this world and raising a child. I always knew I wanted children but didn’t realize how hard it is raising them. Being a parent is one of the toughest jobs there is and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I am so thankful I was even blessed to carry a child and be a mommy. I feel like I am still figuring this whole parenting thing out but I feel like we are raising a good kid.

I just want my son to know that his parents will always be there to support him, not matter what(except if he comes to me at 25 still wanting to be a Power Ranger, then we’ll need to have a serious talk lol). I want him to know that he can be anything he puts his mind to and not to give up on his dreams. I want him to be proud of his blackness and not let anyone tell him any different. I want him to always hold his head high and stand up for himself. I pray that as he is growing up, the treatment of others is getting better and we don’t have to live in fear. I also want him to know that no matter how old he is, he’ll always be my baby.