Need food for thought? Have some Kandee.

 

Kandee Johnson

Hi loves!
As I type, I’m in a state of blending in with my sectional, flanked with an extra large mug of tea and a pile of old magazines while Rachel Zoe is showing on the telly. She’s so fab.

Don’t envy me, girls! See, I woke up this morning with a bad stomach ache and a horribly weakened resolve. The thought of going to work and pretending that I was happy and well was making me even more weak and nauseous than I already was.

So what did I do?

Called in sick and decided to feel sorry for myself for the day.  Quite the perfect opportunity to catch up on Youtube videos and blogs, so I got comfy and logged on.

My Youtube subscription box is filled with beauty gurus (naturally), and one of them is Kandee Johnson. She’s an extremely gorgeous, optimistic makeup artist who makes information filled videos with cute, cheeky titles (“A Whole Lot of Nudes!”, “Oh my MOD (twiggy)”). It was while browsing her channel that I came across the video “Go Get Your Dreams and My Story”.

I have to admit, I don’t usually watch these kind of “inspirational” Youtube videos. I usually find them to be a little contrived and a lot egocentric, but something, most likely my weakened resolve, made me click that link.

It wasn’t contrived, corny, or egocentric. At all. It was the story about her life before tv, Youtube stardom, and Glaminars. With watery eyes, Kandee recanted her story of abuse, near homelessness, malnutrition, and becoming a mother in the midst of all the chaos.

That’s right, she’s one of us :-).

After listening to Kandee’s story about her dreams and how she made them come true, I forced myself up from the couch, swigged some Pepto, and proceeded to clean my entire apartment. And by clean I do mean clean. I put away all of my Lovebug’s toys, washed all of the dishes, took out the trash, moved all of the furniture so that I could vacuum and sweep the entire floor, cleaned the baseboards, put everything back, scrubbed the toilet and bathtub, uninstalled and stored the air conditioner for the season, and all the while pondered : Why the HELL am I feeling sorry for myself?


Don’t get me wrong, my life is hard, but life is hard for everyone. I know its an understatement to say that single motherhood is difficult, but that’s really what it is, and it was getting to me for a while. Its taxing and stressful, but its also what feeds me, gives me life, motivation, and purpose. Even though roadblocks and curveballs are part of my everyday life, I know there are plenty of successful people who have walked in these same proverbial shoes.

I want to be one of those people.

No, I need to be one of those people.

I was racking my brain trying to figure out who, what, and where when I remembered something…

It was a weekday night, and I was making dinner, so my Lovebug dragged her wooden step stool into the kitchen so she could watch me cook. Its one of her absolute favorite things to do, and she’s becoming quite the little sous chef. I could hear her grunting and panting as she lifted the weight of the stool that almost equaled her own, but I let her struggle her way across the room.

When she finally reached her destination, she plopped it down, planted her foot on the top step, and looked at me triumphantly and said “I did it Mama! I’m strong.”

“Good job!”, I said, as I clapped and kneeled down to plant a big kiss on her heart shaped lips. I was so proud of my girl. When I pulled back, she was staring at me with her eyebrows threaded together, looking very concerned.

“Are you strong, Mama?” she asked.

And I, without hesitation, replied “Yup, Mama’s strong just like you…you made me that way.”

And at that she beamed so hard that her eyes turned to slits, wrapped herself in a hug, and gave me an affirmative nod.

Like she knew all along.