Category Archives: Recognition

Evolving. Revolving. (Happy Birthday, Baby)

I’m writing in an opened space.

Feels good.

I got the clarity that I was seeking; the moment that I so strongly wanted all last week, and so much more. I was afforded the thoughts that were jumbled or willed away by the happenings of life.

Here goes:

Today my little baby is a whopping sixteen-years-old.Babe Little

The thought of this seems weird. At 10:16 tonight, it’ll be more than a notion.

I was just holding her on my hip.

Hell, I was just carrying in her my womb.

I was just taking her off to her first day of school.

I just bought her Junior Debutante dress.

I was just explaining the intricacies of being a female and all the weight that, that carries.

And now, my little, semi-sweet, chocolate, pudding is suddenly at the age where independence is hers for the taking.

Life will seem grand through her newly freed eyes. She’ll enjoy it on levels that mommy no longer will be able to supply.

That frightens me.

That makes me happy.

It was during the sixteenth year of my own life, when she came to existence and I pray, preach, and scream for her not to have to write this same post at thirty-two-years old.

Though now, I can count her as a blessing because having another child is nearly medically impossible for me, but who knows things could happen…but it won’t bother me any if they don’t. Because of her early presence in my life, I was afforded something that many women with my disorder won’t be. I got to experience childbirth.

Then it didn’t seem all that fantastic.

Now, I’m thankful.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart!


Babe 16My pretty, little, darling, will be off to college soon and I’ll be—for the first time—an uninhibited woman free to do the things that being a young mother hadn’t afforded me to do. You know the stuff like just up and moving when I please, kind of just do whatever the heck I want to do without being considerate of someone else’s feelings.

I don’t think any mom can do that…so I digress, but at least I’ll get the chance to live alone.

The thought? At one time sexy to me.

Now? It’s scary.

I’ve lived my life for her and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is my everything. EVERYTHING.

The reason to breathe, the reason to love, the reason to believe, the reason to keep going…when I’ve wanted to stop.

I miss her already.

I want to hold her tight and not allow her the freedoms that she deserves.

I want to protect her from the world that she’ll now see through new eyes.

I want to keep her the little baby that held on to me for dear life when strangers were around.

I want to keep her the little one that said, “Don’t worry, mommy. We’ll be okay, huh?” with bright-eyed optimism that said I could and would fix everything for her with just a simple band-aid.

I want to protect her from the heartbreak she’ll experience.

I want to protect her from the failures that she’ll take personally.

I want to protect her from the mistakes that she’ll make and more importantly, I’d like to protect her from herself.

She’s wonderful, adventurous and has no care in the world about being herself.

She calls herself the Black-Hippie. Which, yes. All complete yes.

She’s awesome, dope.

And really, those of us born in the 80s know that being dope is a very important part of life.

She’s dope.

But, that’s scary to a mom that wants her to be the same little one that thought that a band-aid could fix everything.

I’ll have to let go.

I don’t like this idea.

I’ll adhere to the rules.

She’ll be off to live her own life very soon and I’ll have to begin…again.

Yeah, I miss her.

 Evolving. Revolving.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

I love you, lights out!




I waited for a while

Nothing happened.

I listened for a while

Nothing happened.

I hoped for a while

Nothing happened.

I prayed for a while

Nothing happened.

I still believe

Nothing happened.

I’m tired

Nothing happened.

I’m fed up, I’ve had enough

Something happened.

And that’ll be enough.

Vive Sine Paenitentia

Res Ipsa Loquitur.
~Uncaught Recidivist

Teen Pregnancy and Other Stuff I’m Thankful For…

Tonight I’m heading to the Battle of the Bands between the high school that my kid attends and the high school that I attended…ironically enough, she also attended this school.

In a much different capacity.

Much different.


During the fall of 1997, curiosity in all its splendid glory, literally killed the cat (pun intended).

I had sex.

During the spring of 1998 I had a daughter.

During the summer of 1998 I turned 17.

Yeah, go ahead do the math (add ‘em up).

 So, yeah, she was at school with me…not everyday silly, but I marched in the band that they’re (my kid’s school) battling against this year. My mother was the PTA President and the Band Booster President, very active in school, and even though, her daughter, who played sports, instruments (yeah plural) in all bands, and was a pretty good student got pregnant in the 11th grade, she didn’t hide her face. She wouldn’t let me hide mine either, or my baby for that matter, which meant, at the PTA meetings my babe was up there by mother and during the band competitions much like the one tonight, she (my babe) was decked out in Green and Gold garb, beside my mom and the rest of my family cheering her mother on. I’m not ashamed. I’m not very proud of the ill-thought out decision (my kid isn’t a mistake, her mother didn’t make the best decisions at the time), but I’m not ashamed. Around about now, she’s looking like a blessing, because the sheer fact that she’s even here, is a miracle in and of it’s self. I  have PCOS and tried several times to actually get pregnant.

The feat? Undoable.

So no, I’m not ashamed. At all.




As mentioned in previous blogs, I’m one of the few fortunate ones to have had a support system that allowed me to finish school, go off (out of state) to college, complete undergrad and post grad studies, and you know, just live like I was normal.

I spent a lot of time aware that I wasn’t. I left my kid with my parents for two years, (but she may as well have not been left, because during marching band season (see previous blogs, etc., blah) my mother was there every weekend with my kid routing me on, like she always did. When the season was over, (when I wasn’t off somewhere being even faster than what I was (see previous blogs)) I was home being a mom. In-spite of those things, I didn’t miss out on much, my life is comparable now, to that of any thirty-two-year-old woman.

The exception? My FIFTEEN-year-old daughter.




Tonight, I’ll be heading back into that same gym, where my spat covered feet marched, where I played basketball, where my senior convocation was held, where I watched one boyfriend or another wrestle, where my friends and I laughed and played during Gym class, where life seemed sooo much different then it is now…and my soul can’t help but to look back and wonder how I got over.


Not too many teen moms make it to the point that I am in, in life. I’ve been afforded luxuries that they don’t get. You know, post high school education, other luxuries in life that have afforded me at the age of 32 to buy my newly, Learner’s Permitted Daughter a car, that ain’t (that’s right, you heard me) run-down (or in the words of 80’s babies, a hoo-ride or a hoopty), live in a nice home, in a nice neighborhood, and have a little money in my pocket to be able to switch careers to do what the dream is. In-spite of the humongous mess my life could’ve been, it’s turned out pretty great. And tonight, as I step in the gym, I’ll be even more thankful to the woman that will be sitting next to me, routing on that same baby that once sat next to her, routing me on.


Thanks, MOM! I love you and I appreciate and am thankful for you and my kid, more than either of you could ever know!




Vive Sine Paenitentia

Res Ipsa Loquitur.
~Uncaught Recidivist


Note: Refer to the unedited part of the tagline to this blog.



Sunshine and Versatile Blogger Award Nomination – Thank you!!! It Means A TON!



Where do I begin?!?!? Seriously, I just felt like I was about to accept a Grammy for the best rap album of the year. Having said that, I believe the correct protocol would be to thank God and other omnipotent beings, however, if you’ve been reading my posts then we all know that I’m anti-protocol at the moment so I’m moving on. I’m choosing to thank a guy that has quite possibly made my entire month by nominating me for this award, Fahdah Away (Humble Mouths)   . Seriously, my words will never do justice to his talent and insight, GO. CHECK. HIM. OUT. NOW. You’ll find yourself aroused, teased, satisfied, and then I promise-swear you’ll need to smoke one after. It’s just that good! HANDS DOWN! The sheer fact that he saw fit to even comment on a post that I made, literally floored me. I can’t tell you enough about how much that means to me! And I definitely am thankful in ways unimaginable. I know that you say it’s just an internet award, but that’s not what this is about for me. As a writer, we know how much just having someone, anyone appreciate your craft, your being, your air means, but to have it appreciated by a peer with talent that surpasses…it’s sex. It’s good, dirty, uber gratifying sex. *Shakes head, grabs the lighter, and a square* Yes, that aptly describes the feeling. Fadah, Thanks! Thanks for reading. Thanks for understanding, and just…Thanks! Feels good to finally be gotten! And I’m passing this on and back, and I’d like to nominate the following for the Sunshine Award:

Humble Mouths – I’ve already told you. If you don’t check this guy out, you’re doing yourself a disservice. Period.
Intelligent Thoughts – This girl? Amazing.
TheseWordsIWrite2012 – This guy? Yes, do check him out!
Satoya Foster – This girl? Yeah, do check it out! Information on lots of stuff!
Harsh Reality – This guy? Real!

The Rules

Post the logo above

Accept the nomination and link back to the blog that nominated you

Answer the questions

Nominate blogs and inform them of the nomination


Favorite color: Pink

Favorite animal: Rabbit

Favorite number: 0 Because it’s everything and nothing at all. I identify.

Favorite (non-alcoholic) drink: Pepsi

Favorite (alcoholic drink): Screw Driver

Facebook or Twitter: Twitter @licitrecidivist

My passions: Writing, Romance, and a nice variation of the two!

Giving or receiving gifts: Receiving, but then to whom much is given, much is expected. So…

Favorite city: Virginia Beach, Virginia

Favorite TV show: Right now, it’s VEEP

And I would also like to nominate the following for the Versatile Award as well:

Humble Mouths

Intelligent Thoughts

Satoya Foster

Harsh Reality



Post the logo above

Accept the nomination and link back to the blog that nominated you

Share seven things about yourself

Nominate blogs and inform them of the nomination

Seven random facts about me!

1. I initially went to college for Music Education on a partial scholarship. (My major changed to Elementary Ed.)
2. I play seven instruments. 5 well, B-flat Clarinet, Bass Clarinet, Soprano Sax, Alto-Sax, Tenor-Sax. 2, not so well, Baritone Sax and Piano. But I can teach one how to play just about any instrument, with the exception of a Aulochrome    <because I think these things are as ridiculous as they come, but they do sound amazing and having the talent to play one, is definitely a feather in one's hat. Search youtube and give it a listen.
3. I have a lazy eye that literally only gets lazy when I’m tired.
4. I own all of those instruments, with the exception of the Bari-Sax, and a piano, I only have a keyboard. Technically that’s my daughter’s, who by the way, plays Clarinet, Flute, the Saxes (No Bari…yet), French Horn, and Mellophone.
5. I love Country Music.
6. Though my major changed, I had a job in the Music department of a prestigious HBCU for a year.
7. When I was younger, I wanted to be a lawyer, because I wanted to be like Clair Huxtable, sans the children and the Looney husband.

I think that about does it! I can’t thank Fadah Away enough for the nomination. Seriously, it means a ton, and CONGRATS to all of my nom’s I wish you all well! Thanks loves! Until then,

~Vive Sine Paententia~

Res Ispa Loquitur
~Uncaught Recidivist