May their ways be lighted . . .

I was driving home today and stopped at a stop sign.  I noticed a woman walking with her two daughters (or at least I assume they were hers). Lately, since I know I probably won't be having any daughters of my own, moms with girl children do make more of an impression on me and I have a soft spot for girls. Don't get me wrong . . . the more I think about it, the more I think I was supposed to have boys and there are some parts of having sons that are really just priceless. Anyway . . . I thought they looked sweet all walking together (the girls had matching coats).  The girls had to be about 8 and 5.

So by the time I cleared the stop sign, parked and collected my things to go into the house, the mom and her two girls were close by.  I climbed my front steps, expecting to catch one more delightful glimpse of the three and the next thing I knew, I saw this mother shove the oldest girl.  Hard.  So hard she stumbled.

And the next part I don't even want to tell.  Because if these girls are being treated like this in the street, I shudder to think what happens at home.

She says to this girl child, "You fucking idiot.  I swear to God you do that shit again I will  punch you in your fucking face.  Both of you fucking idiots!"

I don't know what this little girl did but there is simply nothing that could have warranted this kind of reaction from her mother.  No amount of annoying or disobedient behavior could have warranted that kind of violation of that girl's personhood.  Especially since she had no way of defending herself.

Oh, I was on the verge of saying something.  It was all just so inappropriate and uncalled for but I quickly remembered that I had just parked and I was in front of my house.  The last thing I want or need is beef with the hood element in this town.  So I didn't speak up for those two little girls.

I feel a bit guilty about it and every time I close my eyes, I imagine all kinds of horrors happening to those two beautiful, Black girls.  I think of that movie Precious and my eyes start to sting a little bit.  It was so saddening, ya'll.  I mean, I've seen it before in this town but often it's directed towards Black boys.  I'm not saying that boys are more capable of handling it but it never made such a painful impression on me.  I keep thinking about how damaged their self-esteem will be and all the sad and costly repercussions low self-esteem has on girls.  (((Sigh))).  Maybe it's because my moon time is soon coming that I'm so sensitive . . .

When you pray or meditate next, would you please hold these girls in your thoughts?  I surely will be doing that tonight.  I'll be wrapping them in love and lighting a candle in hopes that their ways will be lighted.

Photo Credit:  "In Memory of Keks" by co L on Flickr.com

The Dirty on Dirty Cloth Diaper Storage

Typically, when folks think of what to do with dirty diapers, if they want something fancy, they turn to a diaper genie.  It contains the smell like a charm.  If they want something basic, they just toss it in the trash, maybe wrapping it in a plastic bag to contain the smell.

So when I first stepped into the world of cloth diapering, this was one of my biggest questions: how do we store the diapers until washday?  We needed something that would do a good job containing the smell so we knew it had to have a tight lid.  It needed to be big enough to hold a good amount of dirty diapers.  It needed to be kind of small so it could fit in the bathroom since we quickly learned the storing dirty diapers in the bedroom was a stinky idea.  We went through a bunch of different containers, mainly different styles of garbage cans and while some of what we tried were serviceable, none were perfect.

And then while in Target one day looking for a new garbage can, one that would actually be used for garbage, I came across this:  Home Logic Pet Food container.  It was no where near the garbage cans since it is marketed as a "pet food container" complete with a scoop.    But this thing is perfect for the diapers.  It snaps tightly shut and even though it's large enough to hold a lot of diapers, it's small enough to fit in a small area.  And as a plus, I can open it with one hand.  It's perfect.

So there's my recommendation for how to store dirty diapers.

Children are People. Just little.

It's true.  Children are indeed people, albeit little people.  It's so easy to forget that especially since in many cultures, children are not considered.  You don't become a real person until some arbitrary age (18 in our society).

Something happened today that drove this message all the way home in my heart and in my mind.

We were practicing our reading (using our Hooked on Phonics program) and Z1 was weepy and upset.  It was like he was totally frustrated for some reason.  As if we'd been going at it for hours and making no progress. I was getting annoyed because I was feeling like his crying was pointless.   I said all right and made moves to put he program away--he clearly wasn't ready to do the work.  It made him cry even more.  So, we try to continue on with the work and he cries even more.  I put away the work and now he's bawling.  Nice.

But then I thought back to this wonderful and highly recommended book that I'm working through called Connection Parenting by Pam Leo.  I suddenly realized that his tears really did not have much to do with the reading.  I mean, a small frustration with one word had touched off something else--something that needed to be released.

So I put the book away and instead of asking him to go to his room and collect himself like I would usually do, I asked him to sit next to me on the couch.  I asked him what was wrong.  And do you know what he said?  "I miss my Daddy."  I was blown away and saddened too.  There are times when I miss someone but I'm an adult and I know what to do to make myself feel better.  Bake.  Knit.  Write.  Call.  He's little so what can he do?  The only thing he really can:  cry.

So I empathized with him and offered some solutions that might make him feel better.  Did he want to call his dad?  No.  Did he want to make a card for his dad?  He brightened up and enthusiastically said yes and could it have a race car on it.  Great!

So me not being all that crafty got on the computer and found this handy dandy custom greeting card maker.  After looking through all the options, he decided he wanted a motorcycle instead of a race car.  He dictated to me what he wanted the card to say, we customized it and then printed it.  He cut it out (scissor practice which is always good) and then taped it to the computer for his dad to see when he comes back from work.

Oh, it made him feel so much better.  He was smiling and happy and ready to do his handwriting.  And I can't even believe how wonderfully he is forming his numbers in this positive frame of mind.

This book Connection Parenting is totally transforming how I approach this whole parenting thing.  It is an answer to prayers.  It is helping me really see my children as legitimate people not half-people or beings on their way to becoming people.  They feel real emotions as strongly as we do and we should never discount or belittle their feelings.   Children are people.  Just little.

Joining Weight Watchers

For my birthday.

Have you done it?  What's your experience?  Do you go to meetings or just do it online?

I am thinking I'll just do it online because I don't really feel like I need any support to keep with the program.  Also, I just don't need one more thing to try to squeeze in but I think it might be good to go to meetings just so to hear what others think or have done and maybe to point out things I'm not doing the right way.  I don't know.

I'm excited about it though!

Change is . . .

Fun.  Well, sometimes.

I'm not the biggest fan of change.  In fact, most of the time, I like things to be steady, predictable and constant.  I don't find it easy to roll with the punches, hate to travel (rather would just get there already) and generally, I take great pains to prepare for any change.

So it's very interesting that when it comes to certain things, I'm all about change.  Like my computer desktop.  I have to change the picture at least once a week.  My screensaver?  At least once a month.  My Gmail theme?  I may change that 2 or 3 times daily!  My blog layout? Well, if you read this blog, you know I change it pretty often (although, I have to say, I'm *quite* pleased with the current design).

And then there's my hair . . .

I've been wearing a lowboy for a while now.  I'm lucky because the style actually does compliment my round face.  Any longer, even just a teeny weeny afro, and I don't think it really does my face justice.  I've come to realize that styles that don't frame my face such as a lowboy, cornrows or a pulled back ponytail/puff really do look best on me.  I've also realized that square eyeglass frames work best for a round face too.  Generally, what works best are styles that don't add to the roundness of my face.

Wearing my hair this way is the most practical style for me.  It allows me lots of access to my scalp so I can easily treat it when it flares up.  It's super low maintenance.  The hubby shapes me up every two weeks (or so)--free of cost.  In the morning, I may or may not brush it because it's so low that it doesn't really matter.  I mainly brush to stimulate my scalp or because it feels good to rake the bristles over my itchy scalp.  I wash it every 2 to 3 days with Head and Shoulders (or T-Gel if I'm having a particularly nasty flare up), oil it with jojoba oil to which I added tea tree oil.  That's the full extent of my style maintenance routine.  It's so basic, I wonder if it can even really be called a style especially since (even though I gave it a noble try) I am nowhere near consistent with wearing larger (read:  largely more entangling and largely more likely to get painfully pulled) earrings or make-up (allergies, i.e. itchy, watery eyes and mascara/eyebrow pencil/eye shadow are mortal enemies; one kiss of a kid's boo-boo and I can kiss my lip gloss goodbye and since I usually forget it at home or it slips down to the bottom of the diaper bag, it's really just a funny situation).

But recently I started to feel the itch . . . I want to see something else when I look in the mirror yet practically speaking, it's just not realistic.  I could grow it out but just thinking about the cost of getting it cornrowed makes me shudder.  I could work on really getting some length so I could do pulled back styles but eh, I don't have the time or patience to fuss that much.

Thought about a wig but with the scalp issues, that might be a bad, bad look.   Should I color it?  Any natural, quality hair colors out there?  And what color?  I have never, ever colored my hair but since I do have a bit of gray hair with more popping up every day, I had started to contemplate whether I would color it or not.

So any ideas?  What can you do with a lowboy to "freshen" it up?

Image courtesy of http://www.usmansheikh.com/success-factors/i-dont-want-to-change

One Good Thing about the Cold Weather . . .

 . . . Is that when I have a whole list of errands to run, I don't have to put the most tedious of the errands, grocery shopping, at the bottom of the list.  I can do it first because it's just as cold outside as it is in my refrigerator/freezer.

What is it about grocery shopping with two kids in tow that is so stressful?  I guess it's because I need to think.  And the non-stop chatter/reaching out and grabbing things/asking for everything they see is just not conducive to smooth mental functioning.  But at least when it's winter, I can get it out of the way first, when I have the most energy and patience.

Hey, you gotta find something good about winter because scraping ice off your windshield ain't it.   :)

Photo Credit:  "It's Cold!!" by Mr. T in DC on Flickr

Finally . . . Emma's sweater!

Remember Emma's Sweater that I started last year?  Well, it's finally, finally, finally done.  And I am too through.  I am so incredibly happy that this project is finished.  It took me forever and I swear to never undertake a project like this again.  It was too much of the same stitch (stockinette) in a yarn that I wasn't fond of.  I really hate 100% cotton for knitting because the stitch comes out so unevenly (cotton doesn't give).  But I was determined to finish before the year was out and I'm happy to say that I did.

So without further ado . . .

That last picture is Z1 modeling it.  As you can see, it turned out huge (this is the largest size-supposedly for a four year old).  One of these days, I will knit swatches and check gauge instead of diving into projects head first.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the sweater.  It's not my best work and we no longer see the little girl I made it for.  I have a book of her mother's though . . . should I try to reach out just one more time?  Return the book and gift the sweater?  Perhaps I will.  I probably would without a doubt if I were more satisfied with the workmanship.

Anyway, I have two projects that I'm looking forward to starting:  the Clapotis for a good friend of mine with a birthday soon approaching and the Sideways Grande Cloche (both are Ravelry links).  I already have the yarn for the Clapotis.  The yarn for the hat is KnitPicks Cadena in the Cranberry colorway and even with shipping and handling it will cost less that $15 (which is way less than the recommended yarn would have cost--way, way, way less).

I'm so excited about starting something new that I (almost) forgot that I have one more sock to finish. I'm so excited I can't even really get into my latest Octavia Butler book (I just finished Wild Seed which was sumptuous and I completely loved). So, hopefully, there'll be some beautiful FOs soon.  But don't hold your breath!

The Second Time's a Charm

I'd asked for an aerobic step bench on Freecycle before but no one responded. I figured what could be the harm in asking again and this time, I received.  It seems like the second time is a charm.  Yes, I would have to drive about 30 minutes to get it but I was going to be going up north anyway.  It's not that I would have been closer to the pick-up spot but at least I would already be in motion. I called the Freecycler to arrange and what do you know?  She works in the town that neighbors mine! So I had a ridiculously easy and quick pick up and I'm now in possession of a step bench.

I have this tape that I bought at the library for $1 eons ago called Fat Burning  Breakthrough by Kathy Smith. I didn't realize it needed a step bench when I bought it so the tape had just been sitting there. So now that I finally had a step bench, I was eager to give it a try. And I was surprised to find out that I really liked it. It was a challenging and balanced workout although I think the challenge came mostly from trying to master the choreography. Kathy Smith could have done a better job of cuing but  the routine is not over-the-top complex.  I think once I'm comfortable with the steps, I can really ramp up the intensity on this workout. It was a pretty long and comprehensive workout--lots of cardio with strength and flexibility thrown in.  More than all of that, it was fun and very different from the style of my other workout DVDs.  It's a little annoying that it's on tape because I have to use the television as opposed to the computer.  Our computer is positioned in our living room in such a way that it's more conducive to working out.

In any case, it's something really good to add to the mix while I try to figure out what I'm going to do next exercise wise.  I'm going to check at the library for other workouts that use a step.

They've taken me as far as they can . . .

Yeah, it's true:  I've plateaued when it comes to my workout DVDs.  I currently have only one that really challenges me (Women's Health Train for Your Body Type) and even at that, the cardio is too short (only 22 minutes).  This is quite exciting to me because it means that I am in much better shape than I was when I started consistently working out in January.  It's not so exciting because now I have to think of what to do next.

I'm determined to get into the best shape of my life which means I need more intense cardio exercise for longer periods of time.  I've thought about the gym but I personally can't stand to be on a treadmill or an elliptical for more than 20-25 minutes although I know I should be pushing cardio to almost an hour.  It would be great to take classes but the gyms I can afford don't offer that many options.  And to be honest I enjoy working out at home.  [When I strike it rich, my home will have an exercise room (and a crafting room).]

So I'm back to looking at DVDs again . . . but I know they will have to be very different from what I'm doing now.  With the ones I have now, half the time, I don't even break a sweat!  The hubby says it's really up to me to push up the intensity of the DVDs I currently have--to use them only as a rough guide because really only I know my body.  But at the same time, I want a real guide and if I had it, I know I would have already hired a personal trainer.  I don't want to think too too hard because I really have a lot of other things I'm thinking about.  I just want an effective workout already laid out for me.  I want to get in there, work hard,  sweat a lot, and lose the weight.

I've heard about P90X, Chaelean Extreme, and TurboJam and all the other Beachbody products but I just don't know!  I thought about the TransFirmer System too . . . something different from what I'm doing now (since it uses a step) but previewing the workouts, I don't think they are anywhere near as intense as I need--especially since some are only about 30 minutes long.

My sister says there's only so much you can do with DVDs at home.  I wonder if she's right.  Will getting in the best shape of my life require a gym membership?

I am actually thinking about hitting the pavement and running.  I've always wanted to be able to run miles.  But I kind of know my body is not built for it . . . it's really difficult for me to run for long distance.  But maybe I can train myself?  And it's winter . . . will I really be down for running in winter?  I know once you start you warm up but brrrrrrrrr . . .

Have you any experience with any of the Beachbody products?  Care to share?

Bananas and Blueberries . . . a winning combination!

I have a large bag of frozen blueberries sitting in my freezer leftover from summer smoothie making. In the winter, I just can't drink anything cold.

On Sundays we usually have pancakes for breakfast and since I had a whole bunch of very ripe bananas, I decided to try a banana blueberry pancake, which I've never had before. Z1 loves banana chocolate chip so I just made up the batter for pancakes* (adding two mashed bananas). For half of the pancakes, I used chocolate chips and for the other half I used blueberries. (I don't mix the add-ons into the batter--I just drop them onto the uncooked side of the pancake while it's cooking. I got this tip from Alton Brown and I have to say, this works out a whole lot better.)

Well, it turns out that I really like the banana blueberry combination so yesterday, I decided to do the same combo in a muffin. Weeks ago I found the best banana chocolate chip muffin recipe I have tried so far. It's super moist and delicious and all that. I've substituted nuts for the chocolate chips and so yesterday I thought, "Why not try blueberries?" I did and it was really good. Even Z1 who's not a fan of blueberries was gobbling them up.

I had wanted to raise a berry bush in the back last year and didn't get around to doing it. This coming year, though, I think it would be a great idea. I really liked these muffins and we use lots of blueberries for smoothies and stuff. Supposedly, berries are pretty straightforward to grow so I'm kind of excited to try.

*I have since decided that the recipe does indeed need 1/4 cup of extra liquid which is what the original recipe calls for. So the recipe I am using looks like this:

Pancakes Like Mom Used to Make (Except Vegan)
2 cups unbleached all purpose flour
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 1/2 tsp aluminum free baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1 tbsp sugar
1/4 cup vegetable oil (or other flavorless oil)
1 1/2 cups soy milk
1/4 cup water
1 tsp. apple cider vinegar
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Put your oven on "keep warm".

In a large bowl, sift all the dry ingredients together. In another bowl, mix the wet ingredients. Add the dry to the wet and stir until everything is well combined and all the lumps are gone.

Oil your griddle or pan lightly with some flavorless oil. Pour 1/3 cup batter onto skillet and cook until bubbles start to form on the top or until the bottom side of pancake is as brown as you'd like. Flip and cook the other side.

Makes 8 pancakes.

Holding your breath?

It's very plain to see (or at least I think it is) that right now people are hurting financially. The cost of things are going up when people are losing their jobs.  I can't say how grateful I am that the hubby has a (pretty) secure job in healthcare (though I don't have any illusions) and I can't even imagine the fortune I have had so that I was able to land a Saturday gig.

When I started the Saturday job, which is at a learning center, I thought to myself that this would be a great way to keep myself in the job market at least somewhat so that when I'm ready to return to work or go back to school for my doctorate, there's no huge gap in my resume.

But what I notice whenever I start to think of the future is that somewhere deep inside I hold back.  Of course, no one can predict what the future will be.  No one really knows what things will look like a few years from now.  But it can't be only me wondering when the shit is going to hit the fan.  Right now, it seems like so many folks are intensely invested in maintaining the status quo.  Business as usual--with a few very slight modifications to take into account the fact that their money is kind of funny right now.  But you'd have to be seriously delusional to not notice that it is most decidedly not business as usual.  The world is changing in ways we've never seen before.  They are calling this depression (which folks want to still misleadingly call a recession) the Greater Depression.  It will get a whole lot worse before it begins to get better.  And when it gets better, things will be a whole lot different.  Will Ph.Ds be relevant then?  What will a teacher's job look like?  How exactly do you plan when you don't know what you're planning for?

I don't spend money frivolously at all.  I weigh every penny I spend and struggle to stay within my budget.  I think to myself though that this may be the last time for a long time that I'll be able to get those silver earrings I've been looking at, those workout DVDs I've been wanting, so maybe I should just go on and get them.  Then I think to myself . . . in  a few years, will these things even be relevant?  Will I lose weight because I am not eating preferring to give the expensive food to the children while I survive on nuts, raisins, and topinambur (which was about the only thing we were able to grow in abundance this year)? Will I be looking to sell off my silver and gold to facilitate getting the hell out of dodge?

Is that kind of thinking pessimistic?  Or realistic?  And in my day to day dealings, should I be thinking about these things?  How do you go about in life not thinking about them?  How do you pretend that everything is exactly as it's always been (all this talk of recession is really just a hiccup right?  We'll be back in a minute!) when clearly, it's not.

You've read the articles about the "alarming" number of folks needing food stamps now.  What about when the government can't afford to subsidize the food stamp program?  You've heard of the folks who used to donate to food banks who are now accepting donations.  What about when the food banks can't afford to do what they do anymore?

So, yeah, I find myself holding my breath unconsciously sometimes.  You know, you plan your life out and dream about all the things you'd like to see happen.  But you don't hold on to those plans too tightly.  You let those dreams be fluid and loose and start to focus on the most basic of things that could keep you happy.  And alive.  You start to think about ways in which you can become more resilient and more versatile and more adaptable.

I think about my children and wonder about the kind of world they live in.  I just hope they can have childhoods, i.e. that the shit hits the fan after they are grown or something.  I know that's kind of selfish since there are other children coming up after them.  (And why the hell do I still want more kids if I know the condition of the world?)

The taxes where we live are too high and will get higher yet moving in this market is really not a possibility.  Like many folks out there, we'd have to sell to buy and quite frankly, ain't no one buying.  So we just go on paying our mortgage that has us by the gonads.  We are currently breaking even at the end of month even with strict budgets and accounting for every penny spent.  Yet, the list of things we need/want grows steadily--and we as parents struggle to do without, trying to give the kids a sense of abundance while cluing them in to the reality that for us and for many others, money is not growing on any trees.  So I'm determined to sock the money I make at this Saturday job away--tenaciously.  I know how easy it is once you're making money to spend money especially with kids, especially trying to give them all the things I didn't have as a child--like Christmas trees and such.  But my focus now is really and truly saving a good chunk of money while striking that delicate balance.  While avoiding feeling like I'm depriving my children and my self.  Having cash money can serve as good cushion to absorb whatever shocks we may be about to experience.

It strikes, me that this is also a good time to get my spiritual life in order too.  Again, shock absorption. Sure, I've been searching for my path but I am more motivated to focus on finding where I'm supposed to so that I'm there if or when the "just in case" situations happen.  So that I am there when the time comes to exhale.  And figure out what to do next.

Oh Christmas tree, Oh Christmas tree . . .

Or not.

I have never had a Christmas tree at Christmas. Not once in my entire life.  Our family didn't put up Christmas trees.  My parents held the belief that trees and all the other Christmas "paraphernalia" were pagan and as Christians, we should not be involved in those things.  My parents also strongly believed that the purpose of Christmas was not the gifts but to celebrate the birth of Christ.  So even if we would have had a tree, there would have been very few gifts under it.

Now, my parents and I don't hold similar world views.  In fact, our world views are vastly different except that we kind of agreed on the Christmas tree thing and the gift giving thing.    But I'd be lying if I said that as a child I didn't long for a beautifully decorated Christmas tree with lots of gifts under the tree.  I wanted that so deeply every Christmas but as I got older and learned a lot more on my own, I became genuinely uncomfortable with all the Christmas "stuff" and when I left Christianity, I took a huge step back from the whole holiday.

But the other day Z1 asked if we were going to have a tree.  He said he wanted to decorate it. The hubby tried to explain that we don't do trees but I felt torn (even though I went along with the hubby).  What's really the harm in having a tree and decorating it?  It may have had pagan origins but now that I know paganism is not devil worship, so what? Who can deny that they are beautiful and fun to decorate?  My opinion on gift giving hasn't really changed all that much.  I wouldn't want to go out and spend a whole lot of money buying things for Christmas.  I think that misses the point, the spirit of Christmas.  But I could see making homemade gifts for each other and close family members as the kids get older because I definitely recognize the value in gift giving and generosity.  And as a knitter and crocheter, I especially see the value in sharing the fruit of one's labor, the product of one's creativity with loved ones.

The frugal me would, of course, purchase an artificial one that we could pull out year after year.  It would be small enough to fit on the kitchen table.  

I could actually have written a similar post at Halloween because the same issues came up.  I didn't dress up or trick-or-treat as a child and I often felt left out.  I often felt like I was missing out on a whole lot of fun.  And these days, holidays are such a mainstream thing--moreso than when I was a child--that it's hard to keep your children insulated from the influence.  I honestly felt bad when Z1 went to his little Kindermusik class and all the other kids had costumes but he didn't.  I asked myself then, What's the harm, really?

So, what say you?  Do you do Christmas trees in your households?  Why or why not?

Picture courtesy of http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/thumb_198/1193071743IQjNUY.jpg

Good Enough.

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving!!

We travelled about 3 hours away to spend the holiday with family and though I was a littler nervous about how it would go, I'm happy to say that it was enjoyable. At least as enjoyable as it could be.

I kept thinking to myself why it is I can never really relax around my family.  Of course, there's the difference in religion and lifestyle but I think more than that, it's my mother.

I seriously believe my mother gave me a lot of complexes that I am still struggling with.  I don't know if I will ever be done struggling with them.

"He's dark-skinned but he's still the most handsome of all of his siblings."

That's a direct quote from my mother talking about one of my cousins yesterday.  Now this cousin is indeed a stunningly beautiful child.  I mean, you will look twice when you see this little boy.  And he looks and behaves very, very differently than his three other siblings (two older and one younger).

This is the kind of message she's been sending me all my life.  I sometimes think I may be imagining things but I know I'm not.  I had the idea growing up that my younger sister, who is just a shade or two lighter than I am was pretty and I was not.  This was despite that fact that often, people in the street mistook us for twins.  It wasn't necessarily that my mom would come right out and say things to me that damaged my self-esteem.  It was more often the things she didn't say.  The compliment to my sister or to some other child--gushing over her long neck of her her clear complexion.  The extra effort I made to be pretty or cute that went completely unnoticed.  And to this day, I swear, it's hit or miss if I'll look in the mirror and I'll like what I see.   It's infuriating.  I get so self-conscious around her that I can't relax.  I'm so self-conscious in general.

I used to blame my non-existent self-esteem on my harsh fifth grade experience that involved near daily torture with almost the whole class calling me ugly and dark.  I remember knowing acutely that a girl named Jamilla, very light skinned with loosely curled hair was beautiful in way I would never be.  But it wasn't those kids that destroyed my self-esteem.  It was going home and not having anyone to give me a different message.  It was going home and having that message reinforced.

So many folks' blogs I read say why can't we as Black people let go of our color issues.  I wish it were that simple.  Color is about as complex an issue as hair.  I know that first hand.

But aside from all that, I still feel so much that I want to make my mother happy and proud of me.  I still feel so much of a sense of failure that I can't--even though I know on an intellectual level that it's not me.  I've done lots of great things in my life--things that should make a mother proud.  But I don't get the sense my mother is proud at all.  It annoys me that I latch on to the faintest of compliments from her and hold on them for dear life.  Like when she was trying to put a pan of cornbread in the oven yesterday and was struggling.  I came over and pulled out the oven rack so she could easily slide it on.  She says, "That was good thinking" and I could feel myself light up.

I could feel myself deflate when I noticed she didn't touch any of the food I brought.  I am a self-taught cook--I cook mainly vegan foods and so I had to teach myself everything.  My mother never really took the time out to teach me to cook.  Or to sew.  Or crochet.  Or to speak Igbo.  But whatever, I'm getting along well and learning all those things on my own.  So many people tell me I'm gifted in the kitchen.  So many folks don't even believe my food is vegan.  I had die hard omnivores eating barbeque tofu.  She didn't even try it.  I mean, folks were really enjoying my collard greens.  Everyone said it was slamming.  She didn't even try it.

Fine, I get it.  I inherited my pickiness from her and I'm never the first to try new or different things.  I could eat the same exact thing every day and never get bored.  But what hurt the most was when she goes to get to dessert.  There was my homemade sweet potato pie and store bought apple pie.  She brought a slice of apple pie for herself and my dad.    I said to my dad, to her hearing, "Oh dad, you don't want some of my sweet potato pie?"  He said, "Oh, yeah, I do . . . go get a slice for me."  And I did.  And he ate it and enjoyed it.  My mother didn't seem to care.

It really shouldn't bother me much, you know.  But it does.  When she comments that Z2's hands are cold, it's a thinly veiled criticism of how I feed my kids, how I take care of them.  When she says things like, "Oh you're losing weight" I can't take it as a compliment because it's always backhanded like she might as well be saying "You're too fat."  And I know if I were to dramatically lose weight, then the problem would be that I am too thin.  It's painful never being good enough.  It makes me really wish that I could move and never have to talk to her again.

So I enjoyed my Thanksgiving, I did.  But there's always that shadow hanging over my head.  I really wish I had the tools to deal with this effectively.  I feel that all I'm powerful to do in this situation is to make sure that I do differently for my children.  Refrain from comparisons.  Make them know without a doubt how uniquely beautiful they are and that I'm proud of them always.  That doesn't necessarily take away my pain but it help me to focus my energy and attention on something else.  Something that makes me feel good.

Photo Courtesy of Feminist Law Professors

A little thing called respect

Respect (which goes hand in hand with politeness) goes a long way in this world of ours especially if you happen to be a person of color.  In my last post, I discussed my feelings on the practice of saying sorry, specifically the idea of forcing an apology or giving an apology that is not sincere.  But there are many other practices/ideas that are related to a little thing called respect.

The hubby yesterday said to me that it's time for Z1 to stop calling adults by their first names.  He wants Z1 to preface any adults' name with a proper title:  Aunt, Uncle, Mr. or Ms.  To him, failing to do so is definitely a sign of disrespect.  Maybe I'm more progressive but I really don't mind children in an informal setting calling me by my first name and I don't mind Z1 calling other adults by their first names either.  By adults, I mean non-related adults.  I still expect Z1 to call his aunts "Aunty", uncles "Uncle", Grandma, Grandpa, whether or not they are related by blood or by marriage.  The hubby, on the other hand, absolutely does mind when he is called by his first name by a child or when a child is calling other adults by their first name.  Well, I had to give it a little thought because, obviously, we have to have some kind of agreement on the issue.

I'm from a culture where respect for elders is of the utmost importance.  I mean, any Nigerian child can tell you of the numerous aunts and uncles they have (only a handful of which are actually really related).  There are people older than me that to this day, I would never attempt to call by their first name without tacking on an Aunty or Uncle.  I remember this huge dilemma I had as a child when the mom of an American friend of mine wanted me to drop calling her Aunty.  I didn't really know how to address this woman because I knew if my mother heard me calling her by her first name, it wouldn't be pretty.  So I stopped calling her altogether.  I wonder if she ever noticed.  Anyway, because of my numerous "fake" aunts and uncles, I wouldn't ask my kids to call any non-related adult Aunty or Uncle.  If we're going to use titles, they're going to be formal--Mr. or Ms. although they can tag that on to the first name (as opposed to the last name) of the adult they're talking to the hubby is okay with that).

In one sense I definitely see the value in using proper titles because it really does set up a space for formality, a distinction between me and you, a respect.  If you call me Ms. Originalwombman and I call you by your first name without a title, you'd feel a way--and vice versa.  In some instances, setting up this respectful environment is useful like at the workplace or in the classroom.  But when it comes to interpersonal relationships between children and adults, is it still useful or does it set up a hierarchy of power where children are at the bottom and adults at the top?

You see, for me parenting is requiring a whole shift in my paradigm.  I'm currently reading a book called Connection Parenting and the underlying idea is that no, you shouldn't treat children like adults but you should always treat them with respect.  That is the only way you can in turn expect respect and this is the only way to truly stay connected to your children.  And connection, the book posits, is what children need most in this world.  That makes total sense to me.  So how does using titles to address adults correspond to that understanding?  If respect is a two way street, what special title am I going to use to address children?  Now, I've had teachers who insisted on calling their students "Ms. So and So" especially when I was attending my all girls high school. I always liked this.  I honestly did feel respected in a genuine way--as if the teacher thought me to be on his/her level, i.e. just a capable a human being.  I've also taught in a school where the students called the teacher by her first name.  I can't say I really liked that dynamic though--students really were haywire at times but I don't know if it was the teacher herself (who didn't command respect) or the fact that
they didn't use titles.  I tend to think it's the former.

I am happy to say that I started a Saturday job at a learning center about 20 minutes from here.  Most of the students call the teachers by their first names.  After encountering a particularly surly and sarcastic boy yesterday (who, damn it, happens to be the only Black child I've see walk into the place yet and who burst into tears when I asked why he was being so rude) I am certain that I do not want to be called by my first name.  I don't even want my first name in play at this place because I do not want to invite any form of disrespect.  I don't want to deal with any bullshit at a part-time Saturday gig.  So I guess deep inside I really do feel that using titles does, at least in some part, promote respect.

But is it fair to expect children to tag on a title of respect to address adults when adults are not expected to do that to children? I'm not sure.

I am sure that is vitally important for my boys to be viewed as respectful, courteous, polite young men--as non-threatening as possible.  So I may have to push my misgivings aside so that they get into the habit of addressing adults as Mister or Ms.

I am sure that a little thing called respect, in this world, in this skin, goes a really, really long way.

The Sorry Will Mean Something

I think most mothers have been in a situation where their child has done something to another child--either said something mean or hit/pushed. There's always that awkward moment after such an incident where all the mothers of the children involved stand around trying to figure out what happened, trying to make their child feel better and also trying to assign blame/seek justice. It is, indeed, always awkward especially if the mothers have totally different frameworks from which they are parenting.

I know I've been in this situation countless times and I often feel like the mother of the other child is looking for me to force Z1 to say sorry. I never do. First of all, Z1 would never say sorry.  I could physically twist his arm if I wanted and he wouldn't do it.  He would sooner stalk off, throw himself on the floor, cross his arms and frown, etc.--an apology would not be coming any time soon.  If he feels his actions were justified, I can forget about an apology.  Which leaves me staring at the mom helplessly as she (essentially) shakes her head at what a poor parenting job I'm doing because Z1 just won't say it.

So these days, I'm much more focused on getting him to empathize with folks that are hurt.  In this way, whatever apology he offers is heartfelt.  This doesn't always fly with other mothers even if I apologize on Z1's behalf and take steps to make sure the incident doesn't happen again like talking to Z1 about keeping his hands to himself or removing him from the situation. It's just not good enough.  They want, no expect, that apology.

With all the spiritual and psychological work I've been doing to get myself to a healthy place, I realize that expecting or demanding an apology for perceived wrongs is really a waste of time.  Often times, if a person knows an apology is expected, they'll give it but it won't be sincere and they'll be sure to commit the offense again.  Why?  Because that person may not feel he/she did anything wrong in the first place.  That person may not understand (or care about) why you are offended.  He/she may think that you taking offense is silly or uncalled for.  That person simply may not care.  Period.  Why expend energy expecting an apology?  These days I'm much more inclined to process these things on my own, to recognize why I was hurt or offended and do things within my own power to avoid it happening again.  This sometimes includes modifying my behavior with the offending person (e.g. not being as open or as friendly).  It's always my hope that if someone sees they have hurt me that they will make an effort to make me feel better.  But as always, how I feel and how I react, at the end of the day, is solely my responsibility.

So Z1 rarely expects apologies at this point when he gets into it with other kids.  Playground scuffles usually end with him coming to vent to me, I sympathize with him and hug him, and give him options for how he can continue to make his playing experience positive.  Yet, I'm careful to model to him how and when to apologize.  Like if I accidentally break something of his or step on his toe, I will say, "Oh Z1, I accidently broke your puzzle.  I know that made you very upset and I'm sorry.  May I help you put it back together?"  I'm careful to slow him down after he's pushed his brother down so that he can take a look at how sad/hurt his brother is.  I will ask Z1 how he thinks Z2 is feeling and if he were in Z2's shoes, what he would want or need.  Without coercion, Z1 will go over and try to soothe his brother and apologize.  So Z1 does indeed say sorry but that's when he wants to--when he realizes that he did something that hurt someone else (even if he feels hurt or treated unjustly himself)--and I don't have to pull teeth to get him to do it either. To me, this makes a whole lot more sense--especially in light of the fact that children get over things so quickly because they tend towards wanting to be joyful, light and happy.

I was bullied as a child and one thing I remember so clearly was being treated horribly and the bully taunting me with, "Oh, I'm sorry!" not to make me feel better, exactly, but just as part of the meanness so they could say they didn't mean it when, in fact, they really did.  I remember reporting the bullying to a teacher and me and the bully being brought together and the teacher forcing the bully to apologize.  The bully would always say "I'm Sorry" and then turn around not more than five minutes after and continue with the bullying--to an even fiercer degree and much more insidiously because I had the nerve to tell.  No one, it seemed, was interested in really fixing the pain.  Everyone was more interested in the superficial politeness.  I wasn't amused.

Saying sorry is the social thing to do.  It's polite.  And we all want to teach our children how to be polite.  But more important to me than teaching my children politeness for the sake of getting along is teaching them empathy and sincerity.  More important to me is teaching that words have meaning and should be meaningful (not empty).  I know if I can get Z1 to empathize consistently, to understand when someone else feels like they've been treated unjustly, to care when someone is hurt, the apology will come and it will come without force.  And then the sorry will mean something.

Photo Credit:  "I'm Sorry" by hey mr. glen on Flickr.com