Peeking Back at Me

This morning as I was rushing to get the Mango Tribe out the door and on our way, I caught sight of my big toe peeking out from my shoe. I was taken aback because for a split second instead of my toe, I saw my grandmother, Nina’s, toe staring back at me.

Nina died 29 years ago and as I get older, I recognize more and more of her physical traits in me and even some in Miss Olivia. I’m built like Nina… short in stature… busty… with small hands and feet, and like her I have to buy my pants, skirts and dresses in the petite shop.

Nina and I were close… we were buddies, thick as thieves and seeing her (or my) toe this morning was such a welcome reminder of who/where I come from.

A Teachable Moment

We had a “teachable moment” in the Mango household on Friday. The back-story is that the kids’ summer camp hosted a talent show on Friday, which culminated its annual “Spirit Week” activities. Both Olivia and Yannick partnered with a couple of kids in their respective groups, worked out some original choreography and auditioned and won a spot in the talent show.

True to form, Olivia worked her butt off. The two other girls in her group live close to us and they got together at least four times in the evenings leading up to the show. This is in addition to their daily rehearsals during their lunch break at camp. They pulled together a great dance routine to the clean version of the Black Eye Peas’ Boom Boom Pow. They decided on black leotard and tights, with denim shorts and black and white bandanas for their costumes.

I can’t really tell you about Yannick’s preparation for the talent show. He’d vaguely mention whom he was working with when asked and on the day of the show he threw a pair of black running pants and black t-shirt into his backpack, explaining he needed the close for his costume.

Olivia’s group opened the talent show and they put it DOWN! They had terrific energy, smooth moves, they hit all their marks. The crowd went wild. The three girls exited that stage knowing they did an awesome job.

Yannick and his crew didn’t hit the stage until well after intermission. By the time to host called them to the stage, I’d had my fill of well intentioned Mariah and Keshia knock-offs. The four boys came on stage with a confident swagger and not in the black-on-black costume Yannick left the house with in the morning. They wore white, sleeveless t-shirts they’d decorated with their names, birthdates and other info, and black workout shorts with a grey stripe down the side. Their fellow campers screamed their names like they were rock stars and when another Black Eye Peas’ song, Showdown, started they surprisingly looked like a real group with “real” choreography. This lasted for about two minutes, and then the piece devolved into a free styling frenzy until the high-energy Showdown breaks into a slow countdown, 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1-, at which three of the four boys would drop to the floor in a tight ball and the fourth boy would stride around the stage in slow motion. Once the countdown was over, the four boys would return to their chaotic freestyle. The crowd went wild every time the countdown hit and each of the four truly enjoyed their moment in the sun. When the boys were finished they got a standing ovation and as the youngest participants in the talent show, these cats left the stage feeling like kings.

As the talent show came to a close, we were surprised to learn the kids were competing against each other and awards would be given. None of the info sent home mentioned the talent show being a competition. First a few honorable mentions were acknowledged, and then the hosts went on to announce the 3rd place winners and guess what… it was Yannick and his boys! Olivia and I screamed our heads off as the little guys made their way to the stage to accept their prize. We then held our breath to see if Olivia would place. Unfortunately, she didn’t and she wasn’t happy.

Following the announcement of the awardees, the camp director went on and announced the winners for the Spirit Week activities and Yannick went on and was awarded an honorable mention for his Capt. Underpants costume. The charge was to dress as a unique superhero and Yannick wore his jock underwear (sans the protector) over his leotard and we pinned a pair of his boxers on the back of his Spider Man cape. Loverman wasn’t happy with his choice, but it wasn’t a battle I was willing to fight. I figured if he could sell, than good for him. Well… I guess he sold it because it was a big hit and once again the boy was making his way to the stage for more accolades.

It was a great day for Yannick and I was so happy for him, but my dear girl couldn’t understand Yannick’s good fortune. For her, it was as simple as she and her girls put in the hard work and should have at least placed. I tried to explain it isn’t always about hard work and even hard work doesn't always guarantee "a win." More often than not, there are other factors to be considered that are sometimes out of our control. Olivia and her partners in the talent show were at an immediate disadvantage as the opening act, and although they did a great job, they couldn’t trump the younger boys high energy and complete abandonment on stage. Yannick and his boys were the youngest performers in the show and the audience connected with their confidence and passion. There were only 3 or 4 acts following the boys and by the time the show came to a close, they crowd was still hyped by the little guys.

Although Yannick reveled in his glory, I’m happy to report he didn’t rub it in his sister’s face. In fact, he readily told her what a good job she did. He even offered to share his portion of his group’s $10 winnings… a whopping $2.50!

Wish I'd Thought of That!

The other day I caught an interview on NPR with Romi Lassally, author of the new book, True Mom Confessions--- Real Moms Get Real. I was immediately struck with a wicked pang of envy because it’s a no-brainer idea for a great book that will probably make loads of cash and I wish I’d come up with the idea.

Lassally gathered the material included in the book from essays/comments left on her website TrueMomConfessions.com. The site encourages mothers to talk about the highs and lows of raising kids. Lassally shared a hysterical antidote about being awakened one night by one of her kids who was suffering from an upset stomach and had vomited all over the carpet. Lassally tended to the sick child, and then made her way back to bed hoping the dog would eat the vomit before they family got up in the morning. I’m not proud to admit it, but I too can relate to hoping the family dog would slurp up a little intestinal issue by the time I got back downstairs after getting the feverish kid back to sleep.

The interview with Lassally also got me to thinking which of my stories I would have wanted included in her book. It probably would have been the one about the time I accidentally overmedicated Yannick with Benadryl because I was too tired to go find my glasses before filling the dosage cup. I mistakenly gave the boy two tablespoons instead of two teaspoons. I was too scared (and embarassed) to call Poison Control, so I put the boy in the bed with me and stayed up all night watching over him. When he awoke the next morning he was fine, and I was no longer just tired, I was exhausted, yet thankful the boy was ok.

I'm happy to report I have no other stories about almost killing my kids, but I have dozens of others that I’m sure other mommies or caregivers of young children can relate to--- we all do. I’ll probably pick up the book and even check out the website because there’s comfort in learning about other mothers’ foibles, but also in sharing those vulnerabilities and insights cloaked in anonymity of being online and not during a PTA meeting among folks you know and who know your children.

What story would you share?

By My Own Hand

These past months of dire economic news has got me to thinking about my own financial stability… or better yet, my ability to ensure my financial solvency in case Loverman or me lose our j.o.b.

I remember my grandmother always reminding us to have something to fall back on in case our Plan A falls through. My dad went to barbering school and cut hair on the weekends while he was in undergrad. About 20 years ago, my mom started making jewelry and now not only does she make and sell some fabulous stuff, she also teaches jewelry making classes to kids and adults. I’ve always admired my girl, Kim, because when she was a child, her mother taught her how to sew and she’s a wizard with the sewing machine.

Sure, I’m talented, but for the longest, I’ve been at a loss when trying to identify something I can make (and possibly sell) by my own hands. Well… no longer… I think I’ve finally found my “homemade thing,” that can keep a little mad money in my pocket. It’s CUPCAKES! That’s right--- cupcakes, the world’s most perfect food. I’ve been a fan of cupcakes all my life and sure, I know in chi-chi places like NY or LA, cupcake boutiques may be passé, but cupcakes are the original comfort food and as long as kids are celebrating birthdays, cupcakes will be in vogue.

I’ve been serious about baking cupcakes for the last 18 months, trying different recipes and pawning them off on family and friends for feedback. Most of my efforts have been successful, but despite how tasty they are, my icing/decorating efforts have been woefully lacking. In other words, they taste good, but look homely and homemade.

That’s until last week when Olivia and I got a hands-on cake-decorating lesson from a talented teacher at the kids’ school. This young lady decorated cakes as a way to finance her college education. She actually made wedding cakes on the side while getting her undergraduate degree. During our three-hour lesson, we learned how to use the pastry bags, couplers and different decorating tips. We had an absolute ball and are looking forward to learning a lot more.

Yesterday I decided to bake a fresh batch of cupcakes and practice my newly acquired skills in preparation of my babies’ upcoming April birthdays. Witness my newest creation--- Lemon Drop Cupcakes, and I’m happy to say, these little sweeties look as good as they taste!

How Much is Too Much?

Where do you stand on homework? My kids’ school advocates a hands-off approach for parents, but this doesn’t work for me.

It’s not that I want to do their homework for them, but Mon. thru Thurs. the Mango Tribe doesn’t play and the routine is as follows---- once we arrive home after school, everybody sits down and gets to work on homework and there’s no T.V., computer time, video games, etc. until the day’s homework assignments are done and most importantly, done to Mango Mama’s satisfaction. Each child has a homework box with all of the necessary tools (dictionary, pencils, erasers, etc) to assit them in getting the job at hand done. Some may think this is a bit heavy handed, but I don’t know how kids can develop good school/studying/homework habits without ongoing parental involvement.

It’s even a bit harder for Loverman and me because both kids are in a Spanish immersion program and to be honest, half the time we don’t understand the assignment. I sometimes have to use the Spanish/English translator on the computer and now and then, I’ve even had to email their teacher for more detailed instructions. When I’ve done this, the reply is to simply leave it to the kids, they assure me that Olivia/Yannick have received ample instructions and really do know what to do. If I insist this isn’t the case, I’m instructed to tell the kids to pay better attention when the assignments are being distributed.

As Olivia gets older, she requires a lot less assistance, and handles her “homework business” quite well. Yannick’s in 1st grade and has a lot more work to do when it comes to retaining his focus. Olivia’s a big help in making sure he’s following the Spanish directions, but I have to be the taskmaster and make sure his handwriting is neat, legible and he’s completing each assignment. Lots of time, I act as the boy’s personal cheerleader, but fortunately, it seems to be paying off because his teacher says he’s doing well. I’m not sure she’d have the same assessment if I let the boy handle is own “homework business.”

When I was growing up, homework time was no joke. I remember doing homework at the dining room table with my dad as he did his assignments as a college student at Temple University. I saw him putting in his time and energy to do good work and therefore it then made sense for me to have to do the same.

I’m not sure if I believe kids will find their way in this area without parental involvement. Isn’t this part of laying a strong, firm foundation?

Not How We Roll!

Olivia’s not happy with me right now. Earlier this week, a parent of a student in her 4th grade class called and asked if Olivia could join her daughter and husband for the weekend at their vacation spot in New Jersey. She’d be staying home in the city getting some additional work done at her office. The request caught me off guard and I somehow mumbled that I’d have to check with Loverman and give her call.

I knew as soon as I hung up the answer was no, but I needed a moment to process. Olivia was sitting beside me at the time and as I hung up, I asked her what that call was all about? Olivia explained she and her classmate wanted to get together for a sleepover and thought this weekend would be best.

Now, this girl knows that’s not how the Mango Tribe rolls. Since day one, Loverman and I have set and exercised very clear parameters in regards to play dates and sleepovers. They include:

• Mommy /Daddy accompany Olivia/Yannick to the first playmate, whereas we engage the parents in the sometimes awkward discussion about firearms in the home or any past or present investigations of pedophilia of any family members currently living in the home;
• No sleepovers prior to at least three previous play dates;
• Mommy and Daddy must like the parents;
• At least one of the parents has to be present during the play date.

To date, we’ve never joined this family on a play date. The Mango Tribe was invited to the class' year-end picnic they hosted for the 3rd grade class last June. I couldn’t make it, but Loverman did take the kids and seemed to have a good time, but since it was a class party, he didn’t feel the need to hit the hosts with our usual questions. I’ve interacted with both parents at various school functions and on school committees and they are very pleasant people, but this has been the extent of our interactions.

I also didn’t like the idea of the mother not being present during the weekend. Sure, it might not be fair to lump my misgivings on the dad’s shoulders, I have no basis for linking the guy to any inappropriate activity with young girls, but this simply didn’t sit well with me or Loverman.

Beyond going through all these details with Olivia, I simply rested my decision on the longstanding family rules. To say this didn’t sit well with Olivia is an understatement. After hearing me out, she took her case to Loverman and I sat back and waited for the fireworks, because I knew what his response would be. As I expected, he too, vetoed the request.

Angry, disappointed and hurt, she moped around the house for most of the weekend. I’ve tried to patiently discuss our position, but she’s not having it. She thinks she’s outgrown these rules and we’re not being responsive to the fact she’s growing up and has good judgment. I’ve assured her that yes, she does demonstrate good judgment but no, the rules are still relevant because they provide us with peace of mind when we leave her and Yannick in someone’s care outside of our immediate circle of family and friends.

I’m also a bit befuddled by her desire to go and spend two nights with virtual strangers. Sure, she’s very familiar with the classmate, but she really doesn’t know this people. Despite our assuring her that we think these are fine people, we (and she) don’t know them and have no idea what they’re like behind close doors.

I guess for Olivia, the opportunity just represents our acceptance that she’s growing up.

The Need to Please

I suffer from a debilitating disease. There’s no cure for this particular ailment, only a self-administered treatment, which I’ll have to diligently implement for the rest of my life.

I suffer from a “Need to Please", sometimes referred to as “I Just Can’t Say No Syndrome.” Unfortunately, I’m not alone in suffering with this dreaded disease, but at the beginning of the New Year, I committed myself to proactive plan to deal with my little problem that isn’t so “little” anymore.

In January, as I admitted I had this problem, I stumbled right out of the gate when I agreed to attend a finance meeting with a few of the board members of the non-profit I work for. My boss requested my presence at this meeting that was scheduled for the evening of January 19, which also happened to be the M.L.K. Day of Service this year. When I questioned my boss about the date of the meeting she assured me she realized the office was closed for the day, but it was the only time the relevant parties were available to meet. In addition to coming in on my day off, the Mango Tribe had planned to get on the road by mid-afternoon to head down to Obama’s inauguration. Now, despite all of this, I still agreed to attend the meeting---- gritting my teeth all the while. Back at home with Loverman, and on the phone with my friends, I bemoaned my boss’ insensitivity, completely dismissing my own responsibility to simply say, “No, I can’t make it.” Finally, a day before the meeting, I called my boss and let her know that this wasn’t working for me and I’d have to miss the meeting. I was torn, because I hate to disappoint people, but I also I have a greater responsibility to my family and getting on the road early made more sense. Guess what, when I returned from the inauguration, I learned the meeting was inevitably postponed due to scheduling conflicts of some of the board members. I felt vindicated.

About 10 days ago, I got a call from a colleague asking me to participate as a panelist at a grant review in Boston in mid-April. The foundation facilitating this grant review is offering a modest honorarium and would handle my travel and lodging expenses. During our initial discussions about the process, I provided the dates in April I wasn’t available, explaining that I’m teaching on Tuesday afternoons until early May. After getting the available dates from the other perspective panelists, it was determined that the panel would meet on Weds, April 15, with everyone traveling to Boston Tuesday afternoon--- everybody but me. I assured them I didn’t mind missing the dinner they were providing for Tuesday evening, but asked whom should I speak to about making my travel arrangements? They told me to go-ahead and book my travel arrangements, they would reimburse me, and to let them know if I needed a hotel room for Tuesday night. After going to Cheaptickets.com, I soon learned that a roundtrip, non-stop ticket would cost more than $700, and a less expensive flight with a layover could take me out of my way as far as Durham, North Carolina. A train from Philly to Boston is six hours and the earliest Id be able to get a train is 7pm, which would get me to Boston after midnight. Surely, this was out of the question. Again, I hemmed and hauled, not wanting to disappoint my colleagues, I tired to justify going out of my way to make this happen. I talked it over with Loverman and thankfully, my well-grounded man helped me to see the light and I called the foundation and withdrew my commitment to participate. Soon after I spoke with them, they sent an email offering to make my travel arrangements, but I remained firmed and explained that at this time, this wouldn’t work for me. I felt better.

Now, my need to please doesn’t mean that I’m a doormat or a pushover. But in these troubled economic times, I’m grateful to have a job and regular opportunities to bring extra money into the house, it’s sometimes just at the detriment of what’s really reasonable. I simply would like to be more realistic about what’s in my best interest at the outset, rather than having to go through a convoluted ordeal to extricate myself from something I had no business agreeing to in the first place.

That's My Boy!

This evening while eating dinner, Olivia mentioned there’s a kid in her 4th grade class who is about to turn 12 years old and while I tried to digest that little tidbit, Yannick pipes in with this… “Yeah… there were two kids in my kindergarten class who didn’t move up with the rest of my class to the 1st grade.” “Why?” I asked. “I think it’s because they didn’t color too good.”

Where Were You?

Now that I’ve finally thawed, I’m ready to share my experiences at last week’s inauguration in D.C. To be honest, it wasn’t only the bone-chilling cold that’s delayed this post, but the fact that it’s been difficult to gain perspective on the expansiveness of what we experienced.

We got on the road to head down to Maryland to spend the night with my girl, Tammy, late Monday afternoon. The plan was to get to Tammy’s, get a little sleep, head out to the Metro station at 2:30am and get in line to catch the first train into DC on Jan. 20th.

At 3am, we found ourselves with about 1,000 other folks with the same bright idea. We snapped photos, waited for our turn to participate in the group wave, sang songs and did whatever we could to keep our minds off the cold air. Thankfully, we boarded a warm train at 4:10am. We arrived in DC around 4:45am and headed over to the Newseum where we had tickets to enjoy the day’s festivities indoors and with access to clean bathroom facilities---- YEAH! The only hitch is the doors to the Newseum didn’t open until 10:00am and it was frigidly cold. I mean cold-to-the-bone... never felt this cold before kinda cold. Fortunately, Loverman had the forethought to pack hand-warmers to put in our gloves and foot-warmers for our boots, and although I’m sure they made a difference, in the middle of all that cold it was hard to tell.

Trying to walk over to the Newseum was no easy feat. As soon as we exited the Metro station, we joined hundreds of people making their way to various locations… the Mall... the Newseum, like us… or some other vantage point to witness history. No matter where you were headed, you were surrounded by a sense of good will, hopefulness, joy. I don’t remember ever feeling so a part of humanity before this day.

Sometime before 6:00am, we found ourselves in a sea of people unable to move forward. Loverman lifted Yannick onto his shoulders and I held Olivia’s hand tightly. Word had drifted through the crowd that anyone with a ticket to the Newseum would be allowed through the barricade to make our way to another line into the facility, but despite our best efforts we couldn’t move. In the midst of all of this I exchanged glances with Loverman wondering if we’d made the best decision to bring the kids into the mass of people. For a brief moment I felt great anxiety at the thought of the potential danger of being unable to move or get out of harm’s way if something jumped off. At some point after the sun had risen we heard a familiar voice pleading for passage through the crowd and as I turned to my right I found myself face-to-face with CNN’s Soledad O’Brien. She, too, was trying to get to the Newseum. We tried to push through with her, but had very little luck.

It was until about 9:00am did we get to the line to gain access to the Newseum. We were probably in the first third of the line and there were still at least 800-1000 people ahead of us. Again, we danced around, tried to keep the kids occupied and our minds off the cold. While in this line we met three lovely women from Georgia and police officers from Louisville, Kentucky, who volunteered to come to DC to work for the day.

I should also note that at no point did I see a Port-a-Potty or encounter a police officer that could offer more information than what we already had. Thankfully, Starbucks allowed folks to use their bathroom facilities. Loverman thinks the hundreds of law enforcement officers were probably working on a need-to-know basis, because there’s no way the powers-that-be could coordinate the DC cops, Federal Marshals, Secret Service and visiting volunteer officers onsite to shepherd the 2 million visitors in town for the festivities.

We finally cleared security and made our way into the Newseum at 11:45am, just in time to jockey for a position in front of the huge Jumbotron. I’ve never felt so at-home surrounded by complete strangers. While waiting for the ceremony to begin I exchanged niceties with a woman who traveled from Colorado and a couple who had just moved to the states from Ghana. Olivia took dozens of photos of the crowd and Yannick simply enjoyed being able to sit in a warm place. Loverman wandered to an upper level of the building to get a better vantage point. As the television cameras caught Barack as he walked down the hall to the Capitol steps, I unexpectedly burst into tears. Why… I’m not sure. A stranger handed me tissues to wipe my tears. After getting myself together, I began to take some photos and scored two especially great shots for a news geek like me, one of George Stephanopolis and another of Charlie Gibson, who demanded a hug in exchange for having his photo taken. I gladly obliged.

Once the ceremony began, you could almost hear a pin drop throughout the viewing area and collective cheers, hugs and flashing flashbulbs abound as Obama completed his mangled oath. It really was an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime moment, but I’m not really sure if it felt any different because we experienced it in DC. Over the past week, I’ve seen the most incredible photos depicting how folks all over the globe witnessed this historic moment and I don’t feel like our experience is any more significant because we traveled to DC to be closer to the scene. Don’t get me wrong, it was an unforgettable day and I’m happy we could share it as a family in DC and I’m sure it’s a day my children will never forget…. but no matter where you were the day Barack Obama became the 44th President of the United States, we were all one… really ONE… full of hope and good will for the road ahead.

Growing Pains

My mom is in the middle of a massive purging and yesterday she dropped off a box of stuff she thought would be of particular interest to me. This little box of treasures included my class photos from kindergarten and 4th grade, prom pictures and old love letters.

But it’s my elementary school report cards that are of particular interest to Miss Olivia. She poured over each of them, one by one, trying to decode the grading system of Evans Elementary in the early 1970s. She counted the rows of Os (for outstanding!) I achieved in fourth grade. It’s nice to have tangible proof to illustrate that I understand what’s she’s going through as a 4th grader.

Olivia’s always been a great student and her most recent report card featured its own equivalent to my string of Os, but 4th grade has forced my girl to step up her game and she’s learning to apply herself in new ways…. spending more time on homework, and sometimes even having homework over the weekends. In fact, tomorrow Olivia is participating in her school’s National Geographic Challenge. She spent the latter part of this evening boning up facts like the country closest to the Tropic of Cancer and naming two cities in the Artic Circle.

I can tell she’s a little nervous, and to tell you the truth, I’m not sure how she’ll do tomorrow; she thinks she probably could have spent a bit more time preparing. She’s probably right, but I’m also proud she’s giving it a shot.

Wii Havin' Fun

Has anyone out there heard of folks developing a Wii elbow or shoulder?

Santa bought the Mango Tribe a Wii this Christmas and hands-down it’s the best gift we’ve ever received. Everyone has been playing it, including my in-laws visiting from Sacramento and even my 80 year-old Aunt Elaine, who joined us for Christmas dinner. The kids, Loverman and me have even created our individual Miis and I’m happy to report that my Wii fitness age is an impressive 33 (not bad at all for a 43 year-old).

But, this morning after bowling a few rounds with the kids and beating Loverman in the best out of five in tennis, I noticed that my right shoulder is really sore and as pitiful as this may sound, playing these Wii games have been most physical exercise I’ve had in weeks. I had to pop two Motrin and take a nap to get myself together.

I’m sure hitting the tennis ball on the Wii Sports court may not be an adequate substitute for getting my butt out on a real tennis court, but it’s better than nothing. Now if I could just get my hands on the Wii Fit.

Walking Up Hill

I went to my chiropractor, Barry, on Wednesday. I’ve been seeing him regularly since the kids and I were rear-ended in mid-November. I’ve been feeling loads better, but thought I might need an adjustment after spending the last few days stuck on airplanes and sleeping in a strange bed in a Marriot in Seattle.

Yesterday, when I got up in the morning, I noticed my lower back; butt and thighs were really sore--- maybe even a bit tight. At first, I chalked it up to my visit to Barry, but as the day wore on, I didn’t feel any better and felt like I was waddling around like a little old lady.

I was about to pick up the phone and give Barry a call, to ask what was going on because I’d never felt like this following a visit with “Dr. Manipulation,” when I realized the soreness wasn’t a result of Barry’s “adjustments,” but the hills I tackled while walking the streets of Seattle. That’s right, I’m simply feeling the burn from some old-fashioned walking uphill. Guess I should be doing this a little more often---huh--- ya think?

Get Dressed!

Have you noticed this stupid new sartorial trend being sported by mostly suburban teen girls--- wearing flannel pajamas outside as fashion? Most cap it off with shuffling around in sherpa-like slippers.

Just yesterday, I saw a young lady, no older than 13, with her mother, and this kid looked like she'd simply rolled out of bed, into the car and unexpectantly found herself at the dentist office. The child looked a hot mess and what was her mother thinking letting the girl venture out the house looking like that?

So, why isn't there the public outrage, like with young Black men started wearing jeans hanging off their off their butt? I've always had little tolerance for this particular fashion choice. In fact, I know if most kids knew the root of the slung low pants is in prisoner culture as a calling card for the brothers willing to engage in sexual activity with other men, a lot more brothers would pull their pants up with a quickness. I'm sure most are more tolerant because it's mostly blond haired, blue-eyed Susies in their pjs.

Whatever! --- These girls look stupid and sloppy and need to get dressed before they head out the door.

Happy Turkey Day

I love Thanksgiving. Hands down, it’s my favorite holiday. Sure, the food is great, spending time with family and friends is fun and having a four day weekend is fabulous. But what I enjoy most is the spirit of the holiday. For me, Thanksgiving is an opportunity to take a whopping cleansing breathe of thanks for my countless blessings.

Happy Thanksgiving y’all!

Happy Anniversary

Seven years ago today, Loverman and I got hitched. Yup, it’s our anniversary and true to form, both of us forgot this momentous occasion was almost upon us until late last night when while speaking to a girlfriend about her Thanksgiving plans, she mentioned heading to Vegas for her father’s nuptials later this week. Well, my friend’s plans sounded pretty familiar because that’s exactly what we did two thousand fifty-five days ago today.

I’m sure you’re wondering how can I forget my wedding anniversary? But, it happens every year. In fact, when our first anniversary rolled around, it was Loverman who remembered and not I. I felt pitiful and made a mental note not to forget again, but each year the date seems to creep up on me and I either forget about it altogether, or I remember at the last minute, too late to even run out and grab a card professing my unending love to my life’s partner/babies’ daddy.

It’s not that I don’t think taking time out to celebrate my union with Loverman is important, it’s just that we seem to be rolling along quite fine and instead of reminiscing about the day we exchanged our wedding vows, we’re earnestly working together to take care of this family and raise these babies. We’re living our life in the now. The date also usually falls on or around Thanksgiving and I guess our focus is on our plans for the holiday.

But, like I said, it is important to take a moment to acknowledge this wonderful man and father I am proud to call my husband. Through him, I have learned how to be a better person and mother and I’m honored to be his wife. I do love my Loverman!

Making a Comeback

My weekend is not complete until I make run to Target. Now, let me be honest, I usually get to Targé more than once a week, but it’s a given that at least one of those visit will be on Saturday or Sunday to stock up with provisions for week.

Today, as my mom and I headed over to Target, we were surprised by all of the traffic headed in and out of the shopping center. Once we finally found a parking spot and made our way into the store, it became quite apparent that consumer confidence is making a comeback, because folks were buying up a storm.

It will be very interesting to see what happens later this week on Black Friday, because if today’s any indication, folks are primed and ready to spend.

say it, spell it, say it

Yannick has his first spelling test tomorrow. His list of words include:
•nada
•solo
•el oso
•el nené
•el mono

In preparation for this quiz, we’ve employed the very same game plan my dad used with more than 30 years ago. It includes writing each word on an index card, with the definition on the back of the card, or in Yannick’s case---- the English translation; then using these flashcards me, Loverman and Miss Olivia take turns reviewing the spelling of each word using say it, spell it, say it method.

I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I remember my dad telling me that this is the method used my the Scripps Spelling Bee folks and to be honest, even though it used to drive me crazy, I am a very good speller. It seemed only natural for me to employ the same method when Olivia started learning how to spell a few years ago and since she and Yannick are learning in Spanish it’s made learning to spell even easier because Spanish words are spelled just they way they sound.

So, let’s wish the little guy well. He’s studied hard and is really prepared, so I guess the moral of this story is----- If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it and say it, spell it, say it.

Obama Buzz

Yesterday, I had one of the most amazing days of my lifetime. And this morning, I awoke full of hope and good cheer, but also with a hazy head and a slightly unsettled stomach that I’ve carried with me for most of the day. Despite the fact that I didn’t drink a drop of alcohol last night, I feel as if I have a hangover--- that’s right a happy hangover—an Obama Buzz.

No Ordinary Day

I’ve received dozen of emails warning me not to wear any political paraphernalia to the polls here in Pennsylvania, and I will follow the rules and be sure to remove my Obama/Biden button before I head out tomorrow morning, but in my mind’s eye, I imagine African drummers lining the sidewalk, drumming their heart out as I make my way to the polls and the pouring of libations calling out the spirits of the ancestors who made this moment possible. So clearly I see my grandmother, Veronica Nelson, a community organizer and an alternate delegate for Jesse Jackson’s bid for the presidency at both the 1984 and 1988 Democratic National Convention, taking my hand--- leading me forward to cast my vote. I imagine the spirits of Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Fannie Lou Hamer, Malcolm, Martin, Shirley Chisholm and countless others crowding me and I add my voice to this historic election. Sure, I’ll follow Barack’s impeccable example and tow the party line, but make no mistake, tomorrow is no ordinary day— God willing, it will be an historic day which will change our lives for better days to come.

Putting It In Context

Rosa sat... so Martin could walk.
Martin walked... so Obama could run.
Obama ran... so our children can fly.--- Anonymous
YES WE CAN!