Finally!

It was less than a year ago Yannick announced he wanted dreadlocks like his daddy and sister.  I gave him the same speech I gave Olivia years ago when she made the same pronouncement, “It’s a huge commitment, you’ll need lots of patience while it grows long enough to twist and once it’s ready to twist I don’t want to hear any complaints about how long it takes to groom-----o.k.?” Yannick readily agreed and stoically endured the daily chore of picking, brushing and combing what may be the kinkiest head of hair I’ve ever encountered.

Well, the little boy’s patience has finally paid off.  On Thursday night, while I was chatting on the phone, Yannick was sitting on my lap watching television and I mindlessly began twisting his hair.   At some point he realized what I was doing and in a conspiratorial tone whispered, “keep going.”  I had no intention of spending the rest of my evening twisting his entire head, but I had to admit the small patch I’d completed looked great.  When I finished with my phone call, I got up to put the phone back n the dock and Yannick dashed off to check out what I’d done in the mirror.  Olivia and Loverman both offered enthusiastic encouragement and I thought, “what the heck,” this was as good as time as any to get the job done.

Once finished, I was amazed at how wonderful he looked with his head full of little twists. They fit him perfectly. He grinned at himself in the mirror trying to catch a glimpse of his head at different angles.   We briefly discussed his new hair maintenance regime, including wearing a bandana to bed to minimize the accumulation of lint, getting up early enough for me to twist each lock and last but not least, keeping his friends hands out of his hair as much as possible. 

As expected, Yannick was up lickety split Friday morning, stopping first at the mirror to see how his hair faired through the night.  He got dressed, sat on the floor between my legs allowing me to tidy up his hair and as he went out the door on his way to school, I saw a handsome boy, completely satisfied and confident with his new look.  

Is It a Party?

What are the base requirements for an 8 yr. old boys’ birthday party? 

I ask, because of what transpired last Sunday when I asked Lovermn to take Yannick to his buddy, Tommy’s (not his real name), birthday party.  We received the invitation on Thursday for Sunday’s party.  Sure, I know everybody’s busy as all get out, but jeez! I need more than 48 hours notice!  Anyway, I promised Yannick we’d do our best to make Tommy’s party while I said a silent prayer of thanks because at least it was on Sunday when Loverman would be available to take him instead of me.

Sunday arrived and I sent my two guys off to the party with a $25 gift card to Game Stop and assured Loverman that Tommy’s father was a man’s man and would surely have a few beers for the daddies attending the 3-hour party.

When Loverman and Yannick returned, I could tell Loverman had a bit of an attitude. Yannick didn’t have much to say about the festivities either.  I gave Loverman some time to decompress before I asked him for details about the party and boy did it sound lame—O!  In short…

1. 10-12 seven and eight year old boys
2. no planned activities
3. pizza, soda, birthday cake
4. other than Tommy’s dad, Loverman was the only other daddy on the scene

Fortunately, the weather was unseasonably warm and the boys could play outside in the courtyard of the dad’s apartment.  The boys played tag football, raced back and forth and finally resorted to throwing ice cubes at each other before Loverman decided to call it a day and head home. 

Sure, I’m all for male bonding and fellowship, but I also think it’s important for parents to put forth a little effort.  Tommy’s dad basically invited a bunch of boys over for a play date and if Loverman hadn’t hung around, the birthday boy’s daddy would have seriously been outnumbered.

But maybe, Tommy’s dad simply did the best he could and like Loverman said, Tommy seemed to enjoy having all of his little friends together. I just know it’s going to like pulling teeth to get Loverman to pony up for another kids’ party anytime soon.

An Upside of Tweendom

At 10 ½, Olivia is moving full-steam ahead into tweendom and yes, I often find myself taken aback when I or her brother or Loverman find ourselves face-to-face with one of her seemingly unprovoked funk-isms.   Sure, I understand she’s maturing, growing, changing, but like my grandmother used to say… “Miss Thing is really smelling herself these days!”

One unexpected upside of this new and not-so improved Miss Olivia is her desire to earn some extra cash.  I’m not one to pay for things she should naturally be doing around the house, but I have agreed to pay her weekly for doing the dinner dishes. Yannick, not wanting to be left out, sweeps the kitchen floor when Olivia finishes and for a few brief moments, all is good in the world.

All I can say is... WOWZA! This little perk of growing up and wanting more responsibility has freed up my evenings and allows me to retire to my boudoir with a nice glass of wine in peace.

A Need to Wean

We take homework very seriously in this household--- come in the house after school, grab a snack and get down to the business of homework before any other activities commence.  This has been the Mango Tribe’s m.o. since Olivia started kindergarten six years ago. 

At first, I’d sit with Olivia and make sure she was following directions, completing the assignments neatly and had comprehensive understanding of the concepts being presented. It offered me and Loverman an opportunity to keep abreast of what she was learning in class. Olivia excels in school and now rarely needs the assistance of either Loverman or me in completing her homework.  When Yannick started kindergarten three years ago, he fell lockstep into our established homework rhythm. But, unlike Olivia, he hasn’t weaned himself off of needing my full attention in finishing his homework.  Olivia seemed the make a seamless transition from needing our help, to wanting to prove that she could do it well, all by herself.  Yannick on the other hand, acts as if beyond writing his name on his homework sheet, he cannot do one single thing unless I’m sitting right next to him and his little co-dependency act is getting on my nerves, because I’m confident brother-man can competently do his homework without mommy’s handholding and cheerleading. 

Now, if I mentioned this issue to Yannick’s teacher, she would encourage me to simply walk away from him and let him sink or swim, because their school’s always telling parents that the kids should be doing their homework with very little parental involvement.  But, I believe both Olivia and Yannick’s success in school to date has a lot to do with the expectations and support we provide as parents.  There is absolutely no way in hell I’d let Yannick turn in homework Loverman or I hadn’t reviewed. He’s 7 and his goal is to just get it done, whereas Loverman and I want it to be done well.  

Yannick’s daily demand that I sit with him during his homework ordeal is wearing me out.  When I ask (or sometimes bark) that he must do as much as he can before I’ll sit with him, he resorts to whining and that really works my nerves. It’s starting to become a battle and Lord knows, that’s not the vibe we want to set, because he has years of homework ahead.

Catching a Glimpse

I had a fabulous weekend in VA Beach with Loverman! We drove down there to attend the Mid Atlantic Black Film Festival. The festival was ok, but what I got a kick out of the most was getting away for just 48 hours with my husband, sans the kids. We never take time away like we did this weekend. We always travel as a tribe of four and although I’m told all the time about the importance of spending time alone with your mate, these moments have been few and far between for the two of us. Well, no more! I’m absolutely giddy about how much I enjoyed myself with my husband. We had a great time talking about tons of things, not just about the kids… work… mundane stuff. We unexpectedly caught up with folks we haven’t seen in years, met new people… sort of felt like who we were before becoming parents to Olivia and Yannick. On our way home this afternoon, I felt completely sated because in those few hours away I was reminded how much I really dig this man and caught a glimpse of who we are in addition to being mom and dad.

Mixed Bag

Yesterday was finally the last day of summer camp at Freedom Theater and I couldn’t be happier! It’s been a busy six weeks for Freedom’s campers and their families. I have mixed feelings about my family's return to Freedom. For me, the experience has sort of been like being transported back to 1979 when I was a student at Freedom (three of the chief administrators of the camp also ran the camp when I attended), but mostly I’ve found myself completely frustrated by the organization’s lack of efficiency and preparedness.

Olivia and Yannick loved their time there this summer and it’s obvious they learned a lot. Both used muscles they never knew they had during daily rigorous workouts and as I posted earlier, Olivia somehow became coordinated and now moves rhythmically to the beat. Yannick learned to project when he speaks and it’s obvious his true place in the sun is definitely on the stage; and although he has tremendous role models, starting with the greatest daddy in the world, his time with Mr. Kareem and Mr. Khalil has also been invaluable, because as most folks know, African-American male teachers are rare in many schools. As part of their program at Freedom, the campers choose an elective and Yannick selected Vita Saana (African Martial Arts). His instructor was the incredibly strong Mwalimu Taliba and Yannick adores her. What an incredible experience for this little boy to learn to protect and defend himself by such a powerful woman!

The camp activities culminated with Freedom’s annual Moment of Sharing, an evening of performances by the campers. At the start of the day, we knew it was going to be a long one, because the kids had to be at camp at 8:45am and the day would be filled with dress and tech rehearsals prior to the performances. It was great to see the kids up on the big stage showcasing all they’d learned, but to be honest, the show went on for too long. The show started at 8pm and the curtain didn’t close until 10:45pm and we didn’t get home until midnight, only to have to be up by 7am to get them back to camp by 9am the next day. The Mango Tribe is exhausted.

As much as the kids enjoyed their experience at Freedom, Loverman and I are questioning whether we’d want the kids to return in the fall or even next summer for camp. My mom thinks it’s a no-brainer and we should just suck it up, but we found ourselves frustrated with some of Freedom’s administrative practices, feeling like our time and responsibilities outside of Freedom wasn't being respected. My biggest gripe is that we were usually given pertinent information at the 11th hour. A prime example is the kids’ participation in Freedom’s performance at the Please Touch Museum last Saturday. We were given less than a week’s notice about the event and instead of providing the rehearsal schedule before inviting the kids to participate, they hyped the kids up about the event, then informed the parents after we gave our consent that we would have to get the kids to early morning rehearsals for the five days prior to Saturday's performance. I don’t know about you, but in the Mango household, an hour earlier in the morning throws our entire morning routine into complete chaos, especially in the summer. The camp instructors and administrators don’t use email, their voicemail boxes are perpetually full and in addition to the substantial tuition, we were asked to participate in a fundraising campaign with the goal of every participant raising at least $75 and to sell five, $20 tickets for the Moment of Sharing.

I’m hoping a few weeks off and a little distance will provide me a bit of perspective. I’m sure part of my problem is that I was expecting things to ease up over the summer and it really hasn't. Maybe I need to understand that as my kids get older, their level of engagement in their activities will increase and I shouldn’t even expect a break. I'll try to focus more on the outcomes of their time at Freedom and remember that organzation's expertise is in preparing young people to perform well in life and in doing so, maybe it's o.k. for their administrative practices to be a bit lacking.

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!

Totally Unacceptable

Yannick came home today and mentioned that his assistant camp counselor encouraged his camp group to be “gangsta” in delivering a mini-performance. Before my head exploded, I attempted to calmly ask Yannick to clarify and as his 7 year-old radar promptly noted the edge in my tone, he hastily assured me she meant “cool gangsta,” not “ghetto gangsta.” Whatever!

I dismissed his protests as he feebly tried to clean-up this young lady’s rallying call to her young, impressionable charges and let him know that in no uncertain terms was he to aspire to be “gangsta” and sat him down for a two minute monologue detailing the negative attributes associated with the “gangsta” stereotypes. I told him being “gangsta” wasn’t cool… cute… or acceptable.

I’m confident he got my message, but just in case, I followed up my discussion with Yannick with a telephone call to the camp’s director. Fortunately, she answered her phone immediately and after identifying myself, I relayed my “gangsta” exchange with Yannick and explained how I found the young lady’s comment unacceptable. The camp director asked for more details and wanted to know the context in which the comment was made. I told her exactly what Yannick said, but stressed that whatever the context, I wasn’t sending my kids to their program to have “gangsta” lauded as a plausible attribute. She promised to look into it further and would speak to her counselors.

O.K.. let’s see where this goes but her measured response has me a bit concerned. Sure, I can’t shield my kids from everything, and yes, I know that during their time at Freedom Theatre, they’re interacting with a very diverse group of people (this is partly what attracted me to the program), and while I expect to spend some amount of time deprogramming my kids from what they’re exposed to by their fellow campers, I didn’t expect to have to be so vigilant when it comes to the camp counselors.

Let’s do better people!

Mama Needs a Break!

Day 3 at the New Freedom Theatre’s Performing Arts Camp has come and gone and I’m happy to report… so far, so good, both Olivia and Yannick seem to be really enjoying themselves. Each day when I pick them up at 4pm they’re both hyped with plenty to share about what they learned in their various classes.

I’m happy for them, once again grateful for how seamlessly they embrace new experiences. I’m also surprised by how little seems to have changed since I attended the camp. Some of the same teachers are still teaching the acting and dance classes; latecomers still have to do 200 jumping jacks before joining their group in the morning; and the older campers are still allowed to head out at lunchtime to grab a bite at one of the fast-food joints along Broad Street.

One aspect I don’t remember is the daily homework assignments. It doesn’t seem mandatory for all of the counselors to assign homework because thankfully Olivia’s teachers have yet to request anything, but Yannick’s teacher, Mr. Kareem, has given them written tasks to complete the last three days and to be quite honest it’s working my nerves. I don’t think this cat understands what completion of these assignments entails and to be honest, Loverman and I haven't been able to identify the relevance of what's been requested. During the school year, we take homework really seriously and there’s no TV, video games or going out to play until all homework is done. Both Loverman and I work with the kids to make sure they get it done correctly and have a handle on what’s going on. As a soon-to-be 5th grader, Olivia doesn’t need much assistance, but it’s a different story with Yannick. He likes one of us to sit down and work with him and by the end of the school year I was readily looking forward to a break in the daily homework grind. But no…it’s only been 2.5 weeks since the school year ended and here I am again, helping the little guy with his spelling and penmanship. Damn!

Being Mindful

So, we’re back at the Nile Swim Club this summer and this year it seems like we’re spending a lot more time at the pool because I’ve been appointed to the board and have been handling the coordination of the summer camps and facility rentals. Olivia picked right back up where she left off last summer and is swimming like a fish. Yannick is doing pretty good too and has been working on treading in 5 feet.

Most of the same lifeguards we had last year have returned and even though I remember them being playful with my two kids last year, this year I notice something a little different. I think my 10 year-old little girl may be flirting just a bit and enjoying the playful attention a tad more than I’m comfortable with. I’m not only one who noticed it either, my mom commented on it while she was hanging out with us at the pool the other day.

I’m not sure how I feel about this and I'm trying not to overreact because she isn’t acting inappropriately or anything, but I do want to make her aware that she’s growing up and mindful of what’s she’s projecting. I'm getting the sense that the hard work of raising my girl is really about to begin.

Days of Freedom

Tomorrow, Olivia and Yannick begin the same six-week summer camp program at Philadelphia’s Freedom Theatre, the same summer camp that I attended through my preteen and teen years. I’m both excited and apprehensive for them because this program ain’t no joke, but I know when it’s all over they’re going to be all the more sharper.

Freedom Theater will always have a special place in my heart because my experiences at Freedom and the life-lessons I learned during my time at Freedom inform so much of who I am today, but Freedom’s bold, uncompromising methods will be a wake-call for both Olivia and Yannick. I wish I could be a fly on the wall the first time Miss Pat walks in and demands 200 jumping jacks. Hell, until two weeks ago, my kids couldn’t even do 10 jumping jacks without bouncing and bobbing all over the room. And, I don’t think it’s because they’re uncoordinated, it’s just because instead of having a traditional gym class at their school, they have a movement class. I’m happy for even that, given the state of many of our school systems that have eliminated gym or physical activity all together.

But, all that ends tomorrow because Freedom’s rigorous program will immerse the two of them in theater, movement and vocal arts and I’m sure after 7 hours at Freedom, they’ll discover muscles they never knew they had. Shoot, I wish I could join them over the next six weeks, because during my days at Freedom, I didn’t have any weight issues and physically, I felt invincible.

In spite of Freedom’s stellar reputation as a premier Black theater in the country and training program, it has had a tumultuous time financially, but through all of their crisis’ they have maintained their performing arts school and summer program, and because of the organization’s fortitude, I am now able to watch the magic they're sure to work on my two children.

Freedom’s summer program seems to have changed very little since when I attended almost 29 years ago. At the camp orientation, both Olivia and Yannick were assigned a monologue they have to deliver for their camp placement tomorrow. I vividly remember the anxiety I felt each year preparing for these placement auditions….butterflies in the pit of my stomach, my voice shaking as I begin the monologue in front of three instructors seated behind a long wooden table in the front of the room… and finally, having to sing a song after I completed the monologue, because although I can do lots of things, I absolutely cannot sing! Despite all of this, I cherish my time at Freedom because I know it prepared me for life, because it was not really about preparing me to be a performer, but to perform at my best at whatever I’m doing, and that’s exactly what Loverman and I want for the both our babies.

Hijacked!

Yesterday was my birthday. For days Loverman asked what I wanted to do on my special day, and I kept assuring him I just wanted a nice quiet day with him and the kids. I meant it having just returned from five days out of town co-facilitating a digital storytelling workshop.

The day started just as I envisioned with the opening of birthday cards and gifts. Loverman then fixed a great breakfast and I got ready to go the day spa for a relaxing mani-pedi. Later in the afternoon, we’d be heading to Allyson’s for little birthday bar-b-que.

As I was getting in the car to go to the day spa, Olivia ran up to the car window with her friend, Jessica, asking if Jessica could join us for dinner at Allyson’s. My internal response was—“NO!” because I didn’t want the responsibility of keeping an eye on someone else’s kid on my birthday, but of course I couldn’t say all of that with the dear girl standing right in front of me, so I sucked it up and said, “Sure.”

When I returned home, completely Zen-ed out from mani-pedi, Jessica and Olivia were checking out a movie in the living room. Yannick was nowhere in sight. Loverman explained that Yannick was playing with Jeffrey (Jessica’s younger brother) at Jeffrey’s house. About a half an hour later, Yannick and Jeffrey popped into the kitchen, both sucking on juice pouches. Before I could even ask what they were up to, Yannick asked if Jeffrey, too, could join us at Allyson’s. Again… what the heck was I supposed to say with Jeffrey standing right there? For the second time on my special day, I sucked it up and said, “Sure.”

Really, what could I do? Fortunately, both Jessica and Jeffrey are nice, polite and absolutely no trouble. It’s just my nice, quiet birthday with family seemed to be morphing into a totally different scene than I’d anticipated. That’s right, a pair of 7 and 10 year olds just hijacked my birthday plans.

So, I called Jessica and Jeffrey’s parents assured them we’d be home before 10 and wished them a nice evening alone, without the kids. Lucky them!

To be honest, everything worked out fine. I had a great time. The four kids were no trouble. In fact, I’m sure Jessica and Jeffrey’s presence kept the kids out of our hair and everyone was happy and able to enjoy themselves. But, believe me… one of the first things I’m going to do today is have a conversation with Olivia and Yannick about the importance of checking in with us prior to extending invitations to their friends.

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.

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.”

Filling the Gap

Back in November, Philadelphia’s mayor, Michael Nutter, announced the closing of 11 of the city’s libraries due to Philadelphia’s overwhelming deficit. This decision was met with a resounding condemnation by city residents, but Michael’s stood firm, while explaining that as difficult as this may be, it’s absolutely necessary in his attempt to continue to fund other vital city services. In addition to the libraries, other budget cuts include city recreation centers, swimming pools and the consolidation of a few of the firehouses.

As a kid, I remember my almost daily trips to the Yeadon library to feed my addiction to Judy Blume. I’d lose myself within the aisles of books trying to limit myself to checking out only three at a time. There is no doubt the seeds of my passion for reading were planted within those walls. Thankfully, my two children have been bitten by the reading bug and love our weekly visits to our neighborhood library. Olivia’s currently digging the Jim Benton’s Dear Dumb Diary series and Yannick loves comic books.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I’ve known Michael for years and I know these are not easy or frivolous choices for him. He’s a good, smart and thoughtful man.

But for the life of me, I don’t understand how he can deem a library, especially in an underserved community, as anything but an essential service, a cornerstone of many communities. And, I’m not alone because as I mentioned folks came out of the woodwork to express their outrage. A series of town hall meetings where scheduled throughout the city before the holidays and city officials, including Michael, listened intently as folks came forward and shared their personal stories about how these closing would adversely effect their lives. Many families use their local libraries as an ad hoc after school program for their kids. Especially in lieu of the expensive or often non-existent options for parents who have to find a safe place for their children after school. In this wretched economy, job seekers use the libraries internet access to look for jobs or revise their resumes. Elders use libraries as a resource or as a destination spot in their daily activities to stay connected to what’s happening in their communities.

Right before the new year, the Philadelphia’s plan to shutter these libraries was challenged in court and a judge halted the mayor’s intended action. The libraries are still open and Michael is still left with a huge budget gap to fill.

It's Good to Share

A few weeks ago I mentioned allowing Miss Olivia to get her own email account. It seemed like a good idea at the time, she corresponded and resolved an issue with her 4th grade teacher and sends weekly updates to her grandparents in California. The downside of her new email habit is she expects access to my laptop on a daily basis. It’s driving me crazy!

After picking the kids up from school, we head home, jump right into homework, fixing and eating dinner, then cleaning up the kitchen and at about 7:30pm, I’m finally seeing the light at the end of my tunnel of the day and all I want to do is get on the computer and do a little blogging. But, no… now I’ve got to share the computer with Olivia so she can check her email and Yannick’s not to be left out, so he wants to hop on and play a few games on pbskids.org. All of this must be accommodated before their bedtime at 8:30pm.

I knew this day would come, just not so soon. The kids have a desktop PC in the playroom, but we’ve never wired it for the internet, and to do so, would require us to add a phone line to the room.

Loverman and I are extremely cautious when it comes to the kids to extending their digital footprint. We’re also pretty strict when it comes to allowing them to play video games. They each have handheld Leapsters, but that’s only because Leapster only offers educational games. I have been lobbying Loverman to loosen up a bit because both are jonesing for Nintendo ds or at least a Game Boy, yet I’m completely on the same page with Loverman in my concern that these handheld video games often distract children to the point where it stunts their social/emotional growth and they become less social and able to engage folks in meaningful conversation. Let’s not even get into the content of some of the video games. It’s ridiculous. I do suspect we’ll be just as vigilant with the amount of time the kids spend playing with these things as we are with monitoring the amount of time and what they’re watching on television.

But, back to my limited access to my laptop… I really do want them to be completely computer literate, but ever since I invested in this swanky Mac laptop, I’ve viewed it as “mine,” and the kids’ insistent interest in getting their grubby and often sticky fingers on “my” toy, is really challenging Mango Mama when it comes to the concept of sharing.

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.

A Too Sweet, Sweet Tooth

My baby boy needs major dental work. He’s suffering from cavities in his upper back teeth on both sides and after my discussion with his pediatric dentist today, we’re looking at no less than three appointments for extractions. Now, before you jump on me about indulging the little guy with too much candy, let me explain that the boy’s current state of dental damage is due to his nursing too long and at will throughout the night and the natural sugars in my breastmilk would sit on his teeth until he brushed them in the morning. Not good.

Yes, I am a proud former breastfeeder, no… let me be more specific, I was a human Häagen Daz machine and I couldn’t pry this boy off the boob until he was 3 yrs. old and even then, it was a delicate negotiation not unlike the Cuban Missile Crisis. I enjoyed nursing and thought Yannick would wean naturally himself like his older sister, but after making a few halfhearted attempts, it became painfully clear that this boy would nurse until adulthood unless I took drastic action. I broke him off cold turkey, but now I realize the damage was already done.

So, now we’ve got to help our little guy weather this new storm. I’m sure it won’t be pretty, especially because Yannick can turn on the drama when he wants to, but unfortunately, we don’t have a choice. Looks like it may be a funky fall y’all.

Mama Knows

What is scarlet fever?
Scarlet fever is a term used for strep throat with a rash. Strep throat is a throat infection caused by a type of streptococcal bacteria.
What causes scarlet fever?
Scarlet fever is caused by streptococcal (strep) bacteria, the same bacteria that cause strep throat. There are many different strains of strep bacteria, some of which cause more serious illness than others. The type of strep that infects the throat and causes scarlet fever is called group A beta-hemolytic streptococcus (GABS).

It started with a fever late on Sunday evening, and by Monday, Yannick didn’t want to get off the couch. His fever would subside with a dose of Children’s Motrin or Tylenol, but it would reappear every six the eight hours like clockwork.

I called our pediatrician’s office on Tuesday morning, and they said if his fever didn’t break in the next 48 hours to give them another call, but they assured me that it was probably just a little viral infection. O.k., I tried to live with that, but to be honest, I wasn’t sure. Since Yannick became sick, I wasn’t sleeping well and if I did fall asleep, I’d wake up with extreme thoughts about the boy. I’d awake worried, sad and agitated.

We kept a close eye on him, I even had him sleeping in the bed with us, and he did seem to perk up a bit, but every time we thought his fever had finally broken, he’d fall back into this listless state and then a few times he’d wake me wailing about really bad stomach pains or a bad headache. On Wednesday, Yannick’s face was covered with little bumps, rough like sandpaper, and his cheeks looked flush like he had bad sunburn. He was still eating and drinking fluids, but I knew something else was going on.

Thursday morning, Yannick awoke without a fever and said he felt good and was in great spirits. I felt better, but still wanted him to take it easy. He seemed fine for most of the day, but by late afternoon, he again complained about bad stomach pains. I gave him a few Children’s Pepto Bismal tablets, and the pain seemed to subside pretty quickly. By this time, I’m convinced more is going on and I decided to call my girl, Leslie. She’s a nurse; in fact, she’s the nurse at the kid’s school.

After detailing Yannick’s symptoms, Leslie was convinced Yannick was suffering from Scarlet Fever. WHAT??? I didn’t know folks still got Scarlet Fever and back in the 1800’s when folks did get it, didn’t they die from it? Leslie explained it really isn’t a big deal; it’s a form of strep throat. After thanking my girl, I called the pediatrician with an update of Yannick’s condition. They suggested I bring him in the next morning.

When Loverman came home, I gave him the 411. I could tell he was humoring me when I mentioned Scarlet Fever, but he agreed the boy needed to see a doctor.

The next morning, Yannick again awoke with no fever, and most of the rash on his face had disappeared, but even with this big improvement, I wanted the boy to be checked out from head to toe.

As we waited for the doctor to see us, Loverman made a few jokes about mommy and Miss Leslie’s extreme diagnosis, but when the doctor walked in the office, took one look at my boy, she too, suspected Yannick was on the up-side of a bout of Scarlet Fever.

A-Ha! I waited a moment while Loverman picked his face off the floor and asked the doctor to repeat herself. She did and went on to assure us that after a 10-day regimen of antibiotics, Yannick will be fine.

I cannot tell you how relieved I am. Last night, both Yannick and me slept like babies. I’m convinced my mother’s intuition has been on overdrive this week and it’s because of this sixth sense and insights provided by those other mothers my sisters’ circle, that my boy is now truly on the mend.