(Fun)draising?

Do you kids Cherrydale? I mean does the PTA at your kids’ school participate in the Cherrydale fundraisers? Our school does and I hate it. Sure, I understand it’s a necessary evil to bring additional resources to the school, but having to schlep those catalogs and order forms around, asking family, friends and associates to order this crap, and finally, collecting and distributing the stuff when it arrives is an absolute pain in the booty. I’d rather just give the school an additional 50 bucks and call it a day.

Up until now, I’ve deftly avoided our participation in the process, but this year I was double-teamed by Olivia and Yannick and succumbed to their insistent begging to join the race to garner the most sales among their classmates. It didn’t help that the school staged a slick marketing campaign showcasing some of the stuff possible top sellers can win, including a limo ride to a restaurant for a family dinner, a MP4 player, and tickets for four to a 76ers game.

I firmly explained that sure, they can participate, but I wanted no parts of it and if they wanted to do it then they’d have to handle it themselves. These terms are fine with them, and for the last few evenings, they’ve been hitting our neighbors up as soon as they get home from work. They’ve practiced their sales pitch on both Loverman and me and if early sales are any indication, it looks like they’re going to be quite successful.

Fortunately, most of our neighbors are very friendly (and tolerant), but the first day Olivia attempted to make a sale, one neighbor, Gayle, sent Olivia home with her daughter’s Cherrydale catalog with the pitch that she’d make a purchase, if we made a purchase from her daughter, so Miss Olivia got her sale, but I’m out of $18 for some useless kitchen utensil. It’s simply a vicious cycle.

Thankfully, all orders are due by the end of next week and I’m sure that in addition to helping to raise funds for their school, there are additional redeemable lessons their learning as pitchmen/women, but for a busy mom and dad, it’s just one more thing added to an already full plate.

Coming Out

I am COMING OUT. For most of my adult life I have been running from my deepest, heartfelt desires, making compromises to accommodate how I think others see me, expect of me.

Tonight I took a major step forward in actualizing my true self. It began as I was trolling the aisles of DSW. After I spied and grabbed the Aerosoles boots I’d been looking for, I mindlessly continued to walk through this shoe emporium. Just when I was about to move towards the cashier to purchase my boots, I spotted them… a black leather, Dansko-like clog, seductively calling me to take a moment and simply try on a conveniently supplied 7.5. Once I put them on my feet, I was done. Decades of denying my attraction to this style of shoe just melted away and I experienced complete comfort. No breaking these babies in… it’s as if my feet were born in these shoes.

I’ll admit, I’ve never been a sexy, stiletto type of gal, but for years I’ve worked diligently to keep up appearances and purchased shoes where fashion often trumped comfort. I feared being labeled a granola-crunching, tree-hugging hippie, always in search of a sartorial statement reflecting my true self. Well, no more… at 43 years old I know that being comfortable in one’s own skin is extremely sexy and with this evening’s purchase, I’m embracing this awareness and taking a bold step forward in my funky new kicks.

Heading the Call

Early Friday afternoon I was hit with a huge wake-up call after taking a dose of Sudafed to battle a headache I’d been suffering with for almost three days. I took the Sudafed, rested on the couch in a back room of our offices for about a half hour when I decided I should put something on my stomach. On the way back from grabbing some soup, my heart started to race, my head continued to pound, my hands and feet began to tingle and the world started to spin around me. The next thing I knew, I was stretched out on the ground with my boss demanding that I stay awake.

When the EMT guys arrived they took my blood pressure and it was through the roof. Despite my protests, I was soon in an ambulance and on my way to the hospital. By the time we arrived at the hospital, my blood pressure started to come down and the EMT guys suspected the Ephedrine in the Sudafed might be the culprit of all this drama, but when probed a bit deeper, it became glaringly apparent that the last few weeks have been much more hectic than usual and maybe the Ephedrine acted as a catalyst for a good old-fashioned anxiety attack.

What?!?!?! Me, Mango Mama, not able to handle (with grace and ease) all being thrown my way? Say it ain’t so. Sure, trying to juggle Loverman’s new work and travel schedule, three nights of soccer practice for the brown babies, with two games on Saturdays, weekends of work-related performances or workshops may seem like a lot for mere mortals, but not me--- no way! Not true. In fact, I sensed things getting a bit out of control when Loverman announced he had to head out to L.A. about two weeks ago. He would only be gone for the weekend, but it was the same weekend when I would be tied up working with an artist with press appearances and performances. My mind raced as I tried to figure out how I could meet both my work and familial responsibilities. I finally decided to reach out and get some help. I was able to hire a young lady who works as a babysitter for a good family friend to come in to stay with us for the entire weekend and work as a mother’s helper.

In spite of my careful planning and logistics management, Friday afternoon I still found myself flat on my back in the emergency room. I couldn’t believe it and I couldn’t slow my brain down enough to understand how serious this situation could get if I don’t make some changes. As I watched the meditative drip of the I.V., I fretted over who was going to pick the kids up from school, especially since Loverman was in the air on his way to Los Angeles, and never for a minute did I consider rescheduling the press appearances for the artist I was working with, but what took me over the edge while I lay there was hearing the emergency room nurses commenting on how Sarah Palin touched them the night before during the vice presidential debate. I couldn’t believe it! These broads went on and on about she was speaking “their” language and seemed really down to earth. One went on to say, “She couldn’t do much worse than what we currently have, and what do we really know about Barack Obama?” By this point my heart was about to jump out of my chest and I knew I had to get out of there if I was going to get my anxiety under control. I called for a nurse and explained that I was feeling loads better and needed to be on my way because I had to get my kids by 3:30pm. A few minutes later, after the attending physician looked me over, I was out the door, right on time to meet the rest of my responsibilities for the evening and the weekend.

Now that this weekend is finally behind me and other than the little side-trip to the emergency room, all went off without a hitch, but that’s not the moral of this story. The moral is that I have more going on than I can handle by my lonesome and in addition to asking for help, I need to make time to take care of myself. I haven’t had a bit of exercise since the pool closed on Labor Day. I haven’t had a day off since Sunday, September 21 and I won’t until this coming Sunday, October 12. I’ve gotten up every morning for the last three weeks at 6:30am and sometimes I don’t get to bed until 11:00pm. My mind is constantly racing and instead of being present in the moment, I’m thinking about what needs to get done next. This can’t be healthy.

But, I’m overwhelmed simply thinking about how to make some obviously needed changes. I don’t think I can get up any earlier to take a much-needed walk. I’m hoping things will slow down once soccer season is over, but I can’t seem to get my head around some me-time. So, if I’m going to be completely honest with myself, at this point I’ve only heard the wake-up call, but how I’m going to address this call is still a complete mystery to me.

hood vs. hoodie

I’m all for dress codes in schools. My kids’ school’s dress code includes blue pants for boys and either blue pants, dress/jumper or skirt for girls. Both boys and girls must wear shirts with collars in white, blue, yellow or pink. I think a dress code levels the playing field and eliminates all that “keeping up with the Joneses,” and on a more practical note, I think it’s a lot cheaper than having to outfit the kids in the latest duds on a daily basis.

When I got home from work on Friday, Olivia announced that she could no longer wear her blue sweater in class because hoodies are not allowed. I, of course, rolled my eyes in complete disgust, because this scene was an exact replay from last year when I had to go to the mat with the school’s administration about the difference between a hood and hoodie. Stupid, I know, but the school’s dress code bans all hoodies, because as it was explained to me, many of the middle school teachers spent too much time asking their students to not wear the hood of the “hoodie” in the class. Cool--- I understand how this could be distracting, but handle your business responsibly and give the middle school kids an ultimatum--- if you wear the hood in my class, you lose the hoodie. Case closed! When I pushed the point a bit further with the school’s dean of students, I also caught a faint whiff of the “thug-like” persona associated with the hoodie, but she never came out and admitted this inference.

Despite my intense disdain of singling out hoodies, because of some perceived association with “ghetto fashion,” it’s also impractical--- have you ever tried to find a jacket or sweater for a child without a hood? I haven’t seen one in Target or Kohl’s in the last two years and believe me--- I’ve tried. It seems as most teachers are reminded of this particular school policy by the school’s administrators instead of differentiating between a garment “with a hood” and a hoodie, most just tell their students that hoods are not allowed.

So, what’s a Mango Mama to do? Well, I emailed Miss Olivia’s teacher this afternoon detailing my position, copied the dean of students and school’s principal and I guess I’ll be hitting that mat again this year.

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.

Getting Personal

We’ve got less than 49 days until what may be the most important presidential election in our lifetime and things are getting tight. Being totally devoid of an agenda to address our hemorrhaging economy, failing education system and skyrocketing healthcare costs, McCain, his side-kick Palin, and the Republicans have resorted to outright lies and distortions in an effort to divert the American public from the real issues.

Yes, I am a proud and vocal Obama supporter. I have read many of his policy papers and support his positions. I believe this man is America’s best hope for securing a better future for my children. In past presidential elections, I was offered very little choice and I cast my vote for the lesser of two evils, but not this time. We have a real opportunity to do better, be better--- much better.

But, make no mistake, everyone does not feel as I do and despite the fact the choice is clear to me, I’ve encountered folks still sitting on the fence, proclaiming they haven’t made a choice yet, or who outright declare themselves as McCain supporters, or don’t offer an opinion either way. The lesson here--- don’t assume.

Believe me, voting for Obama is not a Black thing, or a Democratic, liberal thing, we’re beyond that, it’s all about striving for more than mediocrity. I’m not interested in electing a president who I’d be comfortable sitting down having a beer with. I want intelligence, integrity, thoughtfulness, diplomacy and vision.

Yes, I respect everyone’s right to vote for whomever they chose. Yes, on most issues, I’m mature enough to agree to disagree, but not when it comes to this presidential election. This is too personal. The stakes are too high and the McCain/Palin ticket has yet to demonstrate any sort of understanding or empathy for the issues me, my family and community are dealing with daily. In fact, their stump speeches are totally devoid of any specifics, offering little in terms of a policy change of the current Bush agenda.

So, for me it’s quite simple. A vote for McCain/Palin is a vote against Olivia and Yannick and that’s totally unacceptable.

Evangelical Christian Defined

Back in February in the thick of the Democratic and Republican primaries, I posted a short piece asking for someone… anyone to please define what the heck is an Evangelical Christian. I went on to ask if it was simply code for White, Christian, Ultra-Conservative

I didn’t get many responses to that post, but I continued to ask the question and about ten days ago while checking out Michel Martin’s Tell Me More blog detailing her experiences at the Republican National Convention I decided to ask the question again. After a few days, I returned to her blog to see if she or anyone on her staff had responded--- and they hadn’t. But, Wednesday when checking my email, I received a request from one of the show’s producers asking if I would be willing to be recorded asking the question for use on today’s broadcast. They invited two religious leaders to respond to my question during the show’s weekly segment, Faith Matters. Check it out--- listen here! Be sure to click on Questions Abound About Palin's Faith.