Monday, November 27, 2006
Church vs Kindergarten on Displaced Native American Day
or Testifying Before Recess
My daughter Phina had her Thanksgiving Day Program last Wednesday prior to the official Displaced Native American Day. My daughter gets excited at any chance to perform and basically show what she's got. She memorized her solo part, two poems and two songs in the course of two days. Uhh Hello Broadway!!
Anyway I get to her class with my turkey wings and greens sans the meat. I laughed to myself as the other parents swirled the greens around in my tupperware searching for a piece of bacon or a bit of fatback. But let's get back to the program shall we.
The production was about great feast between the Indians and the Pilgrims and how thankful everyone was that day. Blah Blah Blah. My daughter's class was split up between pilgrims and Indians. Oh and there was a King. My daughter Phina's portrayal as the Indian was loud and rather Carol Burnett like. And her dramatic interpretation of each song and poem was flawless. She was on cue so well it was if a Tony was waiting to presented to her upon the finale. And even when it wasn't my daughter's part, she mouthed everyone's else's part. At which point I gave her my stern headshake signaling her to cease. After we parents stood up, clapped, yelled and whistled for our young thespians, it was our turn to participate.
My daughter's teacher asked to go around the room and say what we were thankful for. It was volunteer of course. She began with our children who one by one stood up and announced what they were thankful for. What followed was a bunch of repeated answers like my family, my mommy, my pet etc. And then came the "toppers". Their answers included "my life"," my breath", and "to be alive." At this point a lil competition commenced starring my child.
After the last "to be alive" came "God". Then a little girl before my daughter said "Jesus Christ."
And then my daughter, being the showboat that she is says "My Bible". Now folks don't get me wrong here, we are spiritual people. We pray. We give thanks to God and know there's something beyond this world. And my kids go to church when we make it. They go more with my parents. But I know my daughter well enough to know that her response was not sincere. The way she said it and looked at her teacher was as if to say "Is that right." IT was a rehearsed answer. It seemed very scripted and not my child. I hid my reaction with a closed smile and a clap.
I said what I was thankful for in my head mainly because I was still perplexed at my daughter's response and actions. Most parents said specific things. Some were spiritually based and some weren't. Then came her teacher. My daughter's teacher stood up and praised our childrens' intelligence and work ethics. And then she proceeded to have church!!!!
In laymen's terms, she begin to testify. In the beginning it was innocent. Then as she went on to say "I give glory to God and He's been so good to me" etc and so on and so on, I was taken aback. She went on to talk about how Jesus helped her walk and how she got out of depression.
And how she prayed and prayed etc. And to make it worse, parents were agreeing with their "preach on's " and their "that's rights'." That's when I knew I was alone in my thinking. The thing is I have nothing against testifying and giving thanks to God for what he's done for me but a Kindergarten classroom is not the place. For her or any of the other parents for that matter to assume that everyone had the same belief system was not right. There is one boy in the class whose parents are muslim. Yet they didn't come to the program. And I saw his mother remind the teacher that he can't eat pork.
So really I was the only one who found it awkward. Everyone else took it. It seems as if the assumption is if you are black and go to DC public schools, then you must be Christian. And not only Christian but okay with practicing Christianity in the classroom. It's one thing for you to pray over your food at lunch time but a whole other monkey when you're giving testimony in the middle of a Thanksgiving production. Well I didn't make cause any beef. One because this is the last year my daughter will attend this school. Though I adore the community and her principal, the school itself is beyond repair and doen't have what my daughter needs. Two because I'm not muslim, a buddhist, or an athiest etc it really didn't affect me personally. But I do believe if my daughter's teacher begin to give thanks to Muhammed, there would of been an uprising.
I asked my daugher why she said my bible during her program. She said ummm, I don't know. I didn't question her any further after that. Maybe another time. But I did ask her what she was thankful for. She answered "my house." In my sincere after school special way I reminded her to always be truthful and say what you feel.
PS-And even though the other parents and teachers didn't find any meat in my husband's greens, I'm glad to say that all that was left was a spot of green juice in the corner. Oh and a partridge in a pear tree.
or Testifying Before Recess
My daughter Phina had her Thanksgiving Day Program last Wednesday prior to the official Displaced Native American Day. My daughter gets excited at any chance to perform and basically show what she's got. She memorized her solo part, two poems and two songs in the course of two days. Uhh Hello Broadway!!
Anyway I get to her class with my turkey wings and greens sans the meat. I laughed to myself as the other parents swirled the greens around in my tupperware searching for a piece of bacon or a bit of fatback. But let's get back to the program shall we.
The production was about great feast between the Indians and the Pilgrims and how thankful everyone was that day. Blah Blah Blah. My daughter's class was split up between pilgrims and Indians. Oh and there was a King. My daughter Phina's portrayal as the Indian was loud and rather Carol Burnett like. And her dramatic interpretation of each song and poem was flawless. She was on cue so well it was if a Tony was waiting to presented to her upon the finale. And even when it wasn't my daughter's part, she mouthed everyone's else's part. At which point I gave her my stern headshake signaling her to cease. After we parents stood up, clapped, yelled and whistled for our young thespians, it was our turn to participate.
My daughter's teacher asked to go around the room and say what we were thankful for. It was volunteer of course. She began with our children who one by one stood up and announced what they were thankful for. What followed was a bunch of repeated answers like my family, my mommy, my pet etc. And then came the "toppers". Their answers included "my life"," my breath", and "to be alive." At this point a lil competition commenced starring my child.
After the last "to be alive" came "God". Then a little girl before my daughter said "Jesus Christ."
And then my daughter, being the showboat that she is says "My Bible". Now folks don't get me wrong here, we are spiritual people. We pray. We give thanks to God and know there's something beyond this world. And my kids go to church when we make it. They go more with my parents. But I know my daughter well enough to know that her response was not sincere. The way she said it and looked at her teacher was as if to say "Is that right." IT was a rehearsed answer. It seemed very scripted and not my child. I hid my reaction with a closed smile and a clap.
I said what I was thankful for in my head mainly because I was still perplexed at my daughter's response and actions. Most parents said specific things. Some were spiritually based and some weren't. Then came her teacher. My daughter's teacher stood up and praised our childrens' intelligence and work ethics. And then she proceeded to have church!!!!
In laymen's terms, she begin to testify. In the beginning it was innocent. Then as she went on to say "I give glory to God and He's been so good to me" etc and so on and so on, I was taken aback. She went on to talk about how Jesus helped her walk and how she got out of depression.
And how she prayed and prayed etc. And to make it worse, parents were agreeing with their "preach on's " and their "that's rights'." That's when I knew I was alone in my thinking. The thing is I have nothing against testifying and giving thanks to God for what he's done for me but a Kindergarten classroom is not the place. For her or any of the other parents for that matter to assume that everyone had the same belief system was not right. There is one boy in the class whose parents are muslim. Yet they didn't come to the program. And I saw his mother remind the teacher that he can't eat pork.
So really I was the only one who found it awkward. Everyone else took it. It seems as if the assumption is if you are black and go to DC public schools, then you must be Christian. And not only Christian but okay with practicing Christianity in the classroom. It's one thing for you to pray over your food at lunch time but a whole other monkey when you're giving testimony in the middle of a Thanksgiving production. Well I didn't make cause any beef. One because this is the last year my daughter will attend this school. Though I adore the community and her principal, the school itself is beyond repair and doen't have what my daughter needs. Two because I'm not muslim, a buddhist, or an athiest etc it really didn't affect me personally. But I do believe if my daughter's teacher begin to give thanks to Muhammed, there would of been an uprising.
I asked my daugher why she said my bible during her program. She said ummm, I don't know. I didn't question her any further after that. Maybe another time. But I did ask her what she was thankful for. She answered "my house." In my sincere after school special way I reminded her to always be truthful and say what you feel.
PS-And even though the other parents and teachers didn't find any meat in my husband's greens, I'm glad to say that all that was left was a spot of green juice in the corner. Oh and a partridge in a pear tree.
Labels: church vs kindergarten
Monday, November 20, 2006
Is There Ever An Appropiate Time to Parent A Parent
So you know I"m in Safeway again. It's interesting how I witness or have incidents in Safeway but never in Shoppers or Costco. We're in the check out line after shopping moving into our new digs. My husband, the kids and I are all delirously tired yet excited. And then I hear in the line next to us, " GET OVER HERE STUPID." My husband, myself, the kids and seemingly everyone in the line with us look over and see a woman talking to one of her children. My husband shakes his head. He sees the look in my eye and knows that I'm contemplating doing something. I stare at the woman and then she yells again to her daughter " You are getting on my f---ing nerves." At that moment we had already checked out of the line and my husband was rolling the cart towards the doors. I walked slowly looking at the woman trying to figure out what I could do. She glanced at me briefly and looked away. I knew whatever I would do would make the situation worse. I noticed that the woman had three other children with her. I saw that her mother was in a wheelchair. I looked at some of the items they had purchased.
Ice Cream. Sugary Cereal. Chocolate. Juice. I thought to myself this woman is grown. She's a grown woman like me. She's a mother like me. She gets stressed like me. She indulges in things that may not be good for her like I do sometimes. But the difference is no matter how stressed, or fed up or how much my kids may pluck that last nerve; I would never curse at them. I would never degrade them. And later on when they get older, I 'll try my best no to embarass them. But I can't promise that one too quickly. I toyed with whether or not I have a right to tell her not to talk to her child like that. Morally I felt it was wrong. I felt it was nothing short of verbal abuse. At the same time, I don't know her situation. BUT can her situation justify her degrading her child in public!!!. Regardless of how I would of said it, it was none of my business. I know how I am myself. I get on edge when another parent or older person tells me " You need to button that baby's coat". I don't get angry when people tell me these things. I'm aware of their concern. I say" thank you" or I got it" and keep it moving. Receiving information from strangers about anything regarding your child can be a touchy. I do know how to tread on these matters. I found that I can keep my ideas to myself yet let the parent know that I saw you. Now if the mama in Safeway had reached over and knocked her child back one, then I would be writing this to you all from the INSIDE!!!!. Just so you know!
So you know I"m in Safeway again. It's interesting how I witness or have incidents in Safeway but never in Shoppers or Costco. We're in the check out line after shopping moving into our new digs. My husband, the kids and I are all delirously tired yet excited. And then I hear in the line next to us, " GET OVER HERE STUPID." My husband, myself, the kids and seemingly everyone in the line with us look over and see a woman talking to one of her children. My husband shakes his head. He sees the look in my eye and knows that I'm contemplating doing something. I stare at the woman and then she yells again to her daughter " You are getting on my f---ing nerves." At that moment we had already checked out of the line and my husband was rolling the cart towards the doors. I walked slowly looking at the woman trying to figure out what I could do. She glanced at me briefly and looked away. I knew whatever I would do would make the situation worse. I noticed that the woman had three other children with her. I saw that her mother was in a wheelchair. I looked at some of the items they had purchased.
Ice Cream. Sugary Cereal. Chocolate. Juice. I thought to myself this woman is grown. She's a grown woman like me. She's a mother like me. She gets stressed like me. She indulges in things that may not be good for her like I do sometimes. But the difference is no matter how stressed, or fed up or how much my kids may pluck that last nerve; I would never curse at them. I would never degrade them. And later on when they get older, I 'll try my best no to embarass them. But I can't promise that one too quickly. I toyed with whether or not I have a right to tell her not to talk to her child like that. Morally I felt it was wrong. I felt it was nothing short of verbal abuse. At the same time, I don't know her situation. BUT can her situation justify her degrading her child in public!!!. Regardless of how I would of said it, it was none of my business. I know how I am myself. I get on edge when another parent or older person tells me " You need to button that baby's coat". I don't get angry when people tell me these things. I'm aware of their concern. I say" thank you" or I got it" and keep it moving. Receiving information from strangers about anything regarding your child can be a touchy. I do know how to tread on these matters. I found that I can keep my ideas to myself yet let the parent know that I saw you. Now if the mama in Safeway had reached over and knocked her child back one, then I would be writing this to you all from the INSIDE!!!!. Just so you know!
Labels: Parenting parents
Thursday, November 16, 2006
House, Movin' and Dented Treasures
So we signed the lease today for our digs. It's a very nice 2 bedroom w/ a full finished basement. Can we get a handclap for the basement!!! For those who don't live with an artist/producer/hip hop extaordinaire with a vinyl(records) upon vinyl and equipment; you'll never know how much a basement means to your life. Now my husband Carl has his dungoen, his space, to work, be productive and best of all, get his stuff out of the rest of our living space. Wait folks, it gets better. It even has a separate entrance!!! Heaven.
Moving is exciting yet stressful even if you have movers. The one thing I do love about it is getting to purge ourselves of stuff. I love to throw away things and to begin anew. My husband on the other hand has a tendency to resurrect his old broken things. His motto is " It can be fixed." But he has gotten better. He finally came to the realization that the five Fossil watches that he acquired prior to our union haven't walked themselves to a Fossil shop in these past six years and probably never will. And a heave ho, away we go WATCHES!!!.
And the lil' folks who dwell with us know the meaning of tossing it. I put it to my daughter in layman's terms like "YOu know Phina you have to give your old toys and clothes away to kids who don't have any and you know you'll get new stuff for Christmas." The next thing you know my daughter is agressively flinging missing doll parts towards the trash can.
Now with my son, I have to purge while he's in daycare. I learned the hard way one afternoon while cleaning under his bed that Senor Dahvi is not to be messed with when it comes to his entertainment. I mean I understand the poor fellow slaves away playing, napping and eating all day. He wants to come home and be surrounded by his stuff broken or not. So as his dear mum reached over to pitch a dented up McDonald's toy, I was threatened with a scream and " NO".
"That's mine, I play with it mommy." I try to reason. " But Dahvi, it's broken". " NO!" I try to negotiate. Most of the time it works but I'm beginning to think this item has some value to the brother. " Dahvi, I'll get you a bigger car if you let me throw this away." I thought I smelled hesistation but instead I get "Umm no it' s my car." So then I get my country black mama stare and voice on. " Ummm look-a-here lil boy, give me the car." As we tug back and forth on my son's dented up treasure, I think is this necessary. So I said" You don't fight snatch from mommy, okay. " And I let him have it. As soon as he gets up to play with something else of course, I snatch the wreck and pitch into the trash. Later he asks if I 've seen his car. I said it may be in your room. He said that's okay, I have another one. So now to avoid all this, I just to my pitchin while he's away or sleep.
So we signed the lease today for our digs. It's a very nice 2 bedroom w/ a full finished basement. Can we get a handclap for the basement!!! For those who don't live with an artist/producer/hip hop extaordinaire with a vinyl(records) upon vinyl and equipment; you'll never know how much a basement means to your life. Now my husband Carl has his dungoen, his space, to work, be productive and best of all, get his stuff out of the rest of our living space. Wait folks, it gets better. It even has a separate entrance!!! Heaven.
Moving is exciting yet stressful even if you have movers. The one thing I do love about it is getting to purge ourselves of stuff. I love to throw away things and to begin anew. My husband on the other hand has a tendency to resurrect his old broken things. His motto is " It can be fixed." But he has gotten better. He finally came to the realization that the five Fossil watches that he acquired prior to our union haven't walked themselves to a Fossil shop in these past six years and probably never will. And a heave ho, away we go WATCHES!!!.
And the lil' folks who dwell with us know the meaning of tossing it. I put it to my daughter in layman's terms like "YOu know Phina you have to give your old toys and clothes away to kids who don't have any and you know you'll get new stuff for Christmas." The next thing you know my daughter is agressively flinging missing doll parts towards the trash can.
Now with my son, I have to purge while he's in daycare. I learned the hard way one afternoon while cleaning under his bed that Senor Dahvi is not to be messed with when it comes to his entertainment. I mean I understand the poor fellow slaves away playing, napping and eating all day. He wants to come home and be surrounded by his stuff broken or not. So as his dear mum reached over to pitch a dented up McDonald's toy, I was threatened with a scream and " NO".
"That's mine, I play with it mommy." I try to reason. " But Dahvi, it's broken". " NO!" I try to negotiate. Most of the time it works but I'm beginning to think this item has some value to the brother. " Dahvi, I'll get you a bigger car if you let me throw this away." I thought I smelled hesistation but instead I get "Umm no it' s my car." So then I get my country black mama stare and voice on. " Ummm look-a-here lil boy, give me the car." As we tug back and forth on my son's dented up treasure, I think is this necessary. So I said" You don't fight snatch from mommy, okay. " And I let him have it. As soon as he gets up to play with something else of course, I snatch the wreck and pitch into the trash. Later he asks if I 've seen his car. I said it may be in your room. He said that's okay, I have another one. So now to avoid all this, I just to my pitchin while he's away or sleep.
Labels: dented treasures
Monday, November 13, 2006
Breakfast Club 2 and other Tales from a Wack HS Reunion
I went to my HS reunion last month and I'm still feeling the wackness. The only reason I decided to go was to see my two really good friends Shelly and Maureen. Well I also wanted my citifiedcatholicschoolgoing husband to bear witness to what country public school was like. Oh yes he's heard the ill tales from me but to witness first hand the a bad version of the breakfast club is a whole other situation. So we drove across the bridge into Chestertown, MD. The "glorious" event including a reception and dinner was to commence at 6pm at the Betterton Firehouse. I had no idea where this was. The only thing I remember about Betterton was the beach. And I was about 10 years old. My parents gave me their usual "oh its about 2 minutes from here" because everything in "Cheddertown" as Carl calls it, is 2 minutes away. Now in "Chestertownese" 2 mins can anything from literally 2 minutes to 20 minutes to 4o minutes. But as we soon found out, Bettertown was about 10 minutes away from my house. My parents church had their prom there.
I begin to think about my hs days. I was never in a clique. I hung out with the band nerds, the alty kids aka or the weird kids, the foreign exchange students, and some future farmers of America. I guess most would remember me as the shy introverted tomboy nerd girl who liked books, U2 and pocket watches. (I'll never blog that)
So we get there from some dark, scary, winding road on time. We walk through the doors and I'm thinking no one is going to know who I am. And Carl is like "umm if we're the only ONES here, we need to leave." Now in Blackese, that meant if we're the only black folks up in the place, we're dippin' . Now any other time, in any other environment, that would not be a problem. But this is hickville folks and coming from the city, you automatically stand out. So imagine two black folk from the city who are well-traveled, well-rounded and well-mannered coming into the mix. Anywho, here's the magic moment in short or rather top 10 reasons why I WILL NEVER GO TO ANOTHER HS REUNION AGAIN!!!!!!!! drumroll
10) Business casual takes on a new definition as some folk don jeans, tight-legged khakis, tight church shirts, country club sweaters choking necks and penny loafers. Guess I didn't get the memo that we were supposed to actually dress like its 1991!!!
9) Okay so we were the only ONES there until my cousin Brian showed up and another black guy i didn't remember. He turned out to be my cousin too. Yes every black person in Cheddertown is related. Well, rather every black person in Cheddertown in related to me.
8) Okay so most of my "meet and greet" went like this:
RHC or Random HS classmate- "Oh, So u live in dc, Aren't u scared?"
Me-"Actually with all the cameras I feel pretty safe. Where are u now?"
MOST of the RHC's response- "Oh we're still here."
Me- "Oh in Cheddertown. He he. I mean Chestertown. "
RHC-"So how many kids....?"
Me-"Enough. I mean 2. Well take care, I'm going to get a cheap drink."
7) Davis DeeJay's spinning Frank Sinatra at a 91' HS reunion? But i thought you're supposed to play what was on the radio in high school. That's how they do it in the movies. My husband made a hairband request and the next thing you know, he's spinning Poison, Bon Jovi even Run DMC. No one boogied. Then came Sexy Back and Promiscious Girl. Still no boogie from my boring mates.
Save for a brief two step between my cousin Brian and his wifey.
6) It's so sad that $2 beer, $3 mixed drinks and a $5 pitcher doesn't make a happening party. What's the matter with you people!!! I come from the land of the $10 cover and $12 drink.
5) Hey I bet you I'm more high school than you are because I'm going to sit over here at my lunch table with my friends and make fun of you richie country club kids. Ha take that. Who's popular now beatches????????? Ahh a segregrated lunchroom in a firehouse!!!.
4) Shelly and Maureen didn't come. I'm after you hoochies.
3) None of my alty band nerd friends showed up.
2) It's 8:30 and I'm extremly tired. I never thought 10 pm could be so late. Oh I'm awake. Huh. Yeah DC. Not scared. 2 kids. Uh huh. Excuse me I need to
go to the ladies room. I silently scream WACK!!!!!!! into the bathroom mirror.
1) I wish I had paid $6o bucks for my parent's church's prom. I could of tossed back a few glasses of punch, watch my grandparents shimmy, pose for a polaroid and praise Jesus all in the name of fun.
PS.-I did want to give a post reunion shout out to my friend Michael Ann, her husband and my cousin Brian who helped me get through such an awful night.
And to Carl, I'm so sorry to had to endure this. But now you understand where I'm from and why the hell I won't go back. And I won't get on you for puffin a ciggy with my cuz outside the FIREhouse.
I went to my HS reunion last month and I'm still feeling the wackness. The only reason I decided to go was to see my two really good friends Shelly and Maureen. Well I also wanted my citifiedcatholicschoolgoing husband to bear witness to what country public school was like. Oh yes he's heard the ill tales from me but to witness first hand the a bad version of the breakfast club is a whole other situation. So we drove across the bridge into Chestertown, MD. The "glorious" event including a reception and dinner was to commence at 6pm at the Betterton Firehouse. I had no idea where this was. The only thing I remember about Betterton was the beach. And I was about 10 years old. My parents gave me their usual "oh its about 2 minutes from here" because everything in "Cheddertown" as Carl calls it, is 2 minutes away. Now in "Chestertownese" 2 mins can anything from literally 2 minutes to 20 minutes to 4o minutes. But as we soon found out, Bettertown was about 10 minutes away from my house. My parents church had their prom there.
I begin to think about my hs days. I was never in a clique. I hung out with the band nerds, the alty kids aka or the weird kids, the foreign exchange students, and some future farmers of America. I guess most would remember me as the shy introverted tomboy nerd girl who liked books, U2 and pocket watches. (I'll never blog that)
So we get there from some dark, scary, winding road on time. We walk through the doors and I'm thinking no one is going to know who I am. And Carl is like "umm if we're the only ONES here, we need to leave." Now in Blackese, that meant if we're the only black folks up in the place, we're dippin' . Now any other time, in any other environment, that would not be a problem. But this is hickville folks and coming from the city, you automatically stand out. So imagine two black folk from the city who are well-traveled, well-rounded and well-mannered coming into the mix. Anywho, here's the magic moment in short or rather top 10 reasons why I WILL NEVER GO TO ANOTHER HS REUNION AGAIN!!!!!!!! drumroll
10) Business casual takes on a new definition as some folk don jeans, tight-legged khakis, tight church shirts, country club sweaters choking necks and penny loafers. Guess I didn't get the memo that we were supposed to actually dress like its 1991!!!
9) Okay so we were the only ONES there until my cousin Brian showed up and another black guy i didn't remember. He turned out to be my cousin too. Yes every black person in Cheddertown is related. Well, rather every black person in Cheddertown in related to me.
8) Okay so most of my "meet and greet" went like this:
RHC or Random HS classmate- "Oh, So u live in dc, Aren't u scared?"
Me-"Actually with all the cameras I feel pretty safe. Where are u now?"
MOST of the RHC's response- "Oh we're still here."
Me- "Oh in Cheddertown. He he. I mean Chestertown. "
RHC-"So how many kids....?"
Me-"Enough. I mean 2. Well take care, I'm going to get a cheap drink."
7) Davis DeeJay's spinning Frank Sinatra at a 91' HS reunion? But i thought you're supposed to play what was on the radio in high school. That's how they do it in the movies. My husband made a hairband request and the next thing you know, he's spinning Poison, Bon Jovi even Run DMC. No one boogied. Then came Sexy Back and Promiscious Girl. Still no boogie from my boring mates.
Save for a brief two step between my cousin Brian and his wifey.
6) It's so sad that $2 beer, $3 mixed drinks and a $5 pitcher doesn't make a happening party. What's the matter with you people!!! I come from the land of the $10 cover and $12 drink.
5) Hey I bet you I'm more high school than you are because I'm going to sit over here at my lunch table with my friends and make fun of you richie country club kids. Ha take that. Who's popular now beatches????????? Ahh a segregrated lunchroom in a firehouse!!!.
4) Shelly and Maureen didn't come. I'm after you hoochies.
3) None of my alty band nerd friends showed up.
2) It's 8:30 and I'm extremly tired. I never thought 10 pm could be so late. Oh I'm awake. Huh. Yeah DC. Not scared. 2 kids. Uh huh. Excuse me I need to
go to the ladies room. I silently scream WACK!!!!!!! into the bathroom mirror.
1) I wish I had paid $6o bucks for my parent's church's prom. I could of tossed back a few glasses of punch, watch my grandparents shimmy, pose for a polaroid and praise Jesus all in the name of fun.
PS.-I did want to give a post reunion shout out to my friend Michael Ann, her husband and my cousin Brian who helped me get through such an awful night.
And to Carl, I'm so sorry to had to endure this. But now you understand where I'm from and why the hell I won't go back. And I won't get on you for puffin a ciggy with my cuz outside the FIREhouse.
Labels: tale of a wack hs reunion
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Thursday was one of those days.
Kids fighting. No sleep til Brooklyn. Feet hurt from walking around all day. Husband in the NY. Brief loss of sanity. Kids settled down. Everyone laughing.
Finger hurt. Spilt and burnt tater tots. Telemarketers after 8pm. Took last drop of wine to the head. An advil too soon. Oops. Comatose. Kids sleep. Missed Party. Clock set to 5am. Fade out.
Labels: crazy day
Thursday, November 09, 2006
stay at home mom-uhh definition please
How does one define a stay at home mother? Take myself for instance. I was a mother who stayed at home with my son. And many were quick to place that title upon me merely based on those two facts. Then add to that the fact that I was unemployed(by not fault of mine but thats another blog). I'm sure most would assume that a stay at home mom is the supreme matriarch whose sole purpose in life it to care for her children, maintain the homefront and cook polished martha stewart/ rachel ray quickie meals for her family. This definition is forever reinforced with the media's version. Vegging out on daytime tv was pure nausea for me. And sometimes I felt outright insulted. Talk shows like The View cater to that 1950's apple pie waspy def of the stay at home mom. And I guess they felt a little progressive replacing their black token Star with a gay token, Rosey. I guess ABC was just fullfilling their diversity quotas. And home shopping networks in particular appeal to this demographic with their cooking products, baby products and other junk to make your life easier. If I see another scrapbook or craft corner I'm going to toss. And I detest the Quacker Factory with bedazzaled mom jeans and monstrous patterns splattered upon faded denim. Farm animals on clothing should be illegal. Ladies, this clothing is obviously saying sex doesn't live here anymore!!!! Is anyone convinced that flannel is the new silk? Are stay at home mothers really buying this???? We have to change the way media and society are portraying stay at home mothers. They are not all Desparate Housewives nor the cartoon characters on The View. Now don't get me wrong, I don't curse in front of my children, listen to lewd music and do lewd acts in front of them mainly because they probably already seen it on the street from another mama!!! And I just don't think its right. But that me. Lets embrace all our stay at home moms including ones who work at home, the gays, the grandmothers, the grandfathers, and other guardians who are employed at the home. And if you are a stay at home mom whether by choice or not, make sure you have a life outside your children. Enjoy your other passions in addition to your family because one day they will become adults with the ability to leave the confines of your utopia. And you are left switching their room back and forth in case they come back.
PS-I'm strangely drawn to HSN or QVC's products by Susanne Summers. Anyone who can push a sweater, a necklace, a crock pot, syrup, and spa regimen all in a couple of hours ain't nothing but a P.I.M.P.
How does one define a stay at home mother? Take myself for instance. I was a mother who stayed at home with my son. And many were quick to place that title upon me merely based on those two facts. Then add to that the fact that I was unemployed(by not fault of mine but thats another blog). I'm sure most would assume that a stay at home mom is the supreme matriarch whose sole purpose in life it to care for her children, maintain the homefront and cook polished martha stewart/ rachel ray quickie meals for her family. This definition is forever reinforced with the media's version. Vegging out on daytime tv was pure nausea for me. And sometimes I felt outright insulted. Talk shows like The View cater to that 1950's apple pie waspy def of the stay at home mom. And I guess they felt a little progressive replacing their black token Star with a gay token, Rosey. I guess ABC was just fullfilling their diversity quotas. And home shopping networks in particular appeal to this demographic with their cooking products, baby products and other junk to make your life easier. If I see another scrapbook or craft corner I'm going to toss. And I detest the Quacker Factory with bedazzaled mom jeans and monstrous patterns splattered upon faded denim. Farm animals on clothing should be illegal. Ladies, this clothing is obviously saying sex doesn't live here anymore!!!! Is anyone convinced that flannel is the new silk? Are stay at home mothers really buying this???? We have to change the way media and society are portraying stay at home mothers. They are not all Desparate Housewives nor the cartoon characters on The View. Now don't get me wrong, I don't curse in front of my children, listen to lewd music and do lewd acts in front of them mainly because they probably already seen it on the street from another mama!!! And I just don't think its right. But that me. Lets embrace all our stay at home moms including ones who work at home, the gays, the grandmothers, the grandfathers, and other guardians who are employed at the home. And if you are a stay at home mom whether by choice or not, make sure you have a life outside your children. Enjoy your other passions in addition to your family because one day they will become adults with the ability to leave the confines of your utopia. And you are left switching their room back and forth in case they come back.
PS-I'm strangely drawn to HSN or QVC's products by Susanne Summers. Anyone who can push a sweater, a necklace, a crock pot, syrup, and spa regimen all in a couple of hours ain't nothing but a P.I.M.P.
Labels: stay at home
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Hey You Got EBT? Hell No But Please!!!
So i'm in the grocery store with my children. Dahvi is in the stroller and Phina is walking. As i make my way down an isle on a mission to find mac and cheese, I notice a woman staring at me. Now being the country gurl that I am, I briefly glance at her, politely smile and keep moving. I turn to the shelves and remember i need to call my ole man aka my hubby to find out what else we needed. But this lady keep staring. So I broke down and said "Hi." She says "Hi" back awkwardly because I guess now she's realized she's bore a hole in my back with her steely stare. AND then ladies and gents, she announces " Oh you know the ebt machine is down". Now for those of u who don't know the ebt machine is used for the ebt card which is government assistance. I was immediatly taken aback by her assumption and wondered why she needed to inform me of this. So I said rather direct "Oh, Well I don't have a card but I wish I did." "Oh, yeah okay," she said with her face pulled back. As I finished shopping I wondered why this woman would assume I had an ebt card. What specifically about me makes her think I have one? Is there a look? Is there a special walk? Of course not. But if i were to feed into a certain sterotype, I guess the bottom line would be because I was rolling with mi ninos. u know. my seeds. my kids. Although I felt the woman should of been minding hers, I wasn't in the least offended. And I meant it when I said I wish I had one. But because I'm married and my husband's income is at a certain level means we don't qualify for the ebt card. But like most just-getting-by americans, we struggle paying bills and even live check to check sometimes. we make it. We try to save. We labor away to get a chip of the american dream. And if you're not elderly, a single parent and or making next to nothing; those types of benefits don't apply to you. Though it is my tax money and I do feel like I should get a little piece of the action. My youthful appearance and frugal ways make people of all races assume I'm a young single mother on "the system". And with that comes all kinds of negativity. And that's sad. So what if you're a young single mother on "the system" in the grocery store getting food for your children. Isn't that what you're supposed to do. In the past months prior to my husband's work hours changing and my son's new gig at the daycare; my son Dahvi would obviously accompany me on errands. And while I watched other mamas'of other ethnicities receive immediate help in a store, I would be ignored until I whipped out my credit card. This didn't happen every time. But it did happen a lot. This discrimination came mainly from my own people. There were times I thought maybe it was because I wore sneakers instead of high heels while comparing fruit or didn't push my son in that $800 stroller. Our model was a hand me down Graco. Whatever sterotype or assumption they tried to put upon me quickly dissolved when they saw me give snacks to my child, or whip out the plastic. I say "so what" to that that lady in the grocery store or to anyone for that matter who assumes I'm on assistance or in the system. It doesn't matter whether I have an ebt card or American Express. I'm providing for my family the best way I know and that's all that should matter.
So i'm in the grocery store with my children. Dahvi is in the stroller and Phina is walking. As i make my way down an isle on a mission to find mac and cheese, I notice a woman staring at me. Now being the country gurl that I am, I briefly glance at her, politely smile and keep moving. I turn to the shelves and remember i need to call my ole man aka my hubby to find out what else we needed. But this lady keep staring. So I broke down and said "Hi." She says "Hi" back awkwardly because I guess now she's realized she's bore a hole in my back with her steely stare. AND then ladies and gents, she announces " Oh you know the ebt machine is down". Now for those of u who don't know the ebt machine is used for the ebt card which is government assistance. I was immediatly taken aback by her assumption and wondered why she needed to inform me of this. So I said rather direct "Oh, Well I don't have a card but I wish I did." "Oh, yeah okay," she said with her face pulled back. As I finished shopping I wondered why this woman would assume I had an ebt card. What specifically about me makes her think I have one? Is there a look? Is there a special walk? Of course not. But if i were to feed into a certain sterotype, I guess the bottom line would be because I was rolling with mi ninos. u know. my seeds. my kids. Although I felt the woman should of been minding hers, I wasn't in the least offended. And I meant it when I said I wish I had one. But because I'm married and my husband's income is at a certain level means we don't qualify for the ebt card. But like most just-getting-by americans, we struggle paying bills and even live check to check sometimes. we make it. We try to save. We labor away to get a chip of the american dream. And if you're not elderly, a single parent and or making next to nothing; those types of benefits don't apply to you. Though it is my tax money and I do feel like I should get a little piece of the action. My youthful appearance and frugal ways make people of all races assume I'm a young single mother on "the system". And with that comes all kinds of negativity. And that's sad. So what if you're a young single mother on "the system" in the grocery store getting food for your children. Isn't that what you're supposed to do. In the past months prior to my husband's work hours changing and my son's new gig at the daycare; my son Dahvi would obviously accompany me on errands. And while I watched other mamas'of other ethnicities receive immediate help in a store, I would be ignored until I whipped out my credit card. This didn't happen every time. But it did happen a lot. This discrimination came mainly from my own people. There were times I thought maybe it was because I wore sneakers instead of high heels while comparing fruit or didn't push my son in that $800 stroller. Our model was a hand me down Graco. Whatever sterotype or assumption they tried to put upon me quickly dissolved when they saw me give snacks to my child, or whip out the plastic. I say "so what" to that that lady in the grocery store or to anyone for that matter who assumes I'm on assistance or in the system. It doesn't matter whether I have an ebt card or American Express. I'm providing for my family the best way I know and that's all that should matter.
Labels: ebt
Monday, November 06, 2006
October 30, 2006. This is the day that will be a testimony to all mamas who think they're children will surely be lost causes without them by not being with them eight or more hours a day. On this day my 2 and half year old son Dahvi , donning his Winnie The Pooh backpack took a giant leap from his father's side into daycare. He immediately grabbed his new teacher's leg and barely caught his father's voice in the near distance inquiring about a kiss or bye. But he got the message and proceeded to poke his lips in the direction of his ole man enough for him to receive the goodbye peck. My husband's heartfelt "Have a Good Day, I love you " was a faint echo as a my son skipped into his new land of colored walls, plush carpeting, other little people, miniture chairs, books and the ultimate boxes and crates overflowing with toys. My husband called me to tell me about Dahvi's reaction. I half laughed and half whimpered. After spending 350 something days of the year with yours truly, it was about time. My son needed to be around other kids on a more regular basis. I was a stay at home mom but not by choice. I immedietly became unemployed and my sitter retired at the same time. All the daycares we could afford were filled to capacity or had 2 year waiting lists. In between searching for a job, interviewing, rewriting my resume and searching for more jobs, I took care of Dahvi. I loved being home with my son but I knew I needed to work to help support our family. Such is life in a gentrified, expensive place like DC. And my other mamafriends were at work so playdates didn't exist. And groups like MochaMoms and the like weren't my type of thing. Yet it wasn't hard in the beginning to entertain my son. But later on running errands, trying on clothes, grocery shopping were getting tiresome. Staying at home is ideal situation to me but in my current situation its not realistic. We're not the type of family who spends frivously nor live beyond our means. We want the same things as most families such as a safe home, better than average education and good health. As we try to change and make our lives better for our children's future, we undestand and are willing to sacrifice. I enjoyed every moment my son and I had together each day and I equally adore every moment without him. I'm glad he's left the nest but I'm also glad he knows where it is. And I'm glad to know he's in a great educational facility smoozing with other genius 2 and half year olds.
PS. After my son's first day, his teacher asked if she could put him in the 3-4 year old class. "Umm he's very advanced and can pee on his own, she said"
" Well yeah" I said. " I mean can he get a job.
PS. After my son's first day, his teacher asked if she could put him in the 3-4 year old class. "Umm he's very advanced and can pee on his own, she said"
" Well yeah" I said. " I mean can he get a job.
