A Mother’s Responsibility

As a mother, one of your main responsibilities is to protect your children at all costs. You teach your children manners, the difference between right and wrong, and how to be respectful of others. What do you do when the color of your child’s skin puts them in harm’s way? With the senseless shootings, violence and general racist sentiments ramping up I’m forced to confront a deep seated fear, that my child could be harmed. It will not matter that he comes from a respectable family, that he’s well mannered, Christian or any of the other self-ascriptions that I give him. He’ll simply be seen as black and dangerous.

He’s above average in height, one could describe him as a man child already at the age of 6. He’s extremely goofy. He believes that farts and belches are funny, loves super heroes and is mischievous like a normal 6 year old. He holds my hands when we cross the street and kisses me goodnight. He has no understanding of violent culture.

If people are cursing or fighting he says, “OOOOh Mommy, they said a bad word.” He’s focused on trying not to lie because he’s been taught that God does not like lying. He knows stealing is bad and that you should always ask first and say thank you. He also knows that people should keep their hands to themselves. But what happens if my child is somewhere and someone is threatened because he looks bigger and older than he really is? Add to that being black and you have a dangerous mix brewing that will eventually lead to horrible consequences for someone.

I watched the video of the pool party in Texas where the police were cursing and swearing at the black kids, “Get your asses’ home.” but the white kids were told “Get your butts home.” Now this may not seem like a big deal, but if you respect a population then you’ll treat them with a modicum of decency. This was definitely not the case in the interaction with the black kids. When the young girl is thrown to the ground and made to lay on her face while she’s in a bikini with the officer’s knees in her back, my blood boiled. What if that was my child? Where was the adult supervision? Who’s advocating for these children?

That’s my big concern in relation to this incident like so many others that we see and hear about on a daily basis. If my kid is at your house then there should be supervision. Even in the supposed gated communities stuff still happens. Remember, Trayvon Martin. An adult should’ve made sure that the kids stayed contained in a specific area. From the video, it looked like there was a lot of chaos. I’m not sure how much adult control was directed, but I do know that as a parent it is my job to protect my children as well as, any guests that may be over for a visit. Long gone are the days when a child can be dismissed to walk home alone, in some places that’s considered child neglect.

A Fla. Couple was investigated for allowing their teenage son to stay at home by himself because he was locked out. He had access to water, played basketball in his own yard, but the authorities were summoned because the young man was outside playing alone for 90 minutes. It’s absurd. What’s even more disturbing is the trend of free range parents, where children are allowed to roam to parks, playgrounds, etc. without supervision.

Each and every parent has the right to decide how to parent. But unfortunately for parents of black children our rights are limited because of the stereotypes associated with our children. I don’t have the luxury to be a free range parent. I have to know where he is and who he’s with all the time. I have to instruct my sons on behavior that although is normal for everyone, the same behavior will get them killed, wearing a hoodie, running with a group of kids or being in a car with three other boys. It saddens me that the simple joys of being silly and goofy have to be measured by surroundings and attitudes. My sons are my joy and life. No one has the right to harm them, but I have to prepare them for the day when something might happen. Although this saddens me—it is necessary so that he can survive.

Weirdly Delicious

Academy Award Winner, Graham Moore last night spoke about his suicide attempt at the age of 16 and always feeling different. I nodded my head in acknowledgement. There were lots of head nods and clapping last night. Many people agreed with him and understood him. What I wonder is how many people have really felt rejected and misunderstood?

Now, I won’t sit here and say that I’ve been ostracized, but many times I’ve not felt acknowledged. This feeling dates back to when I was a child. I grew up in a home where children were seen and not heard. I know this is one of the reasons that I struggle as a parent. My children are seen and definitely heard. I didn’t develop my voice until I was an adult.

I was never the prettiest, nor the smartest or even the sturdiest. I was clumsy, shy and lacked confidence. I didn’t have many girl friends growing up because there was always some drama. You know get a group of women together and something’s going to get started. I always hung out with guys. Men are easy. They either liked me, not necessarily as a girlfriend, more like a little sister or they didn’t. I was always the fifth wheel when I hung out with my girl cousins. My fashion wasn’t quite right, my hair was never right. I have long hair, always have and every woman who has ever met me or been my friend has always had something negative to say about it. I learned it comes with the territory.

I’ve never been hip, it’s always like the person who tries to hard. I gave up. I don’t have swag, sex appeal or any of those things that my friends have. What I do have is a large vocabulary that I like to flex regularly. However, it always seems to escape me that I’ve missed some cultural anthem that everyone is fixated on. Words, songs, clothes, dances you name it, I’ve probably missed it.

In reality, Graham Moore is right. It’s okay to be different, to celebrate who you are through your individual expressionist means. There are those that like colorful hairstyles, tattoos or body modifications. None of that works for me because as a professional I would never be hired. However, my quirkiness is expressed through the things I care about, such as causes and issues. I’ve been ridiculed and called  a bleeding heart liberal as if it’s some sort of cancer that needs to be eradicated off the planet. Whatever, I always say. Although, its difficult to walk a lonely path, however if my heart tells me its the right one, I’d rather be alone.

As a writer I spend lots of time alone creating worlds and situations that spring forth from my brain. No one understands my passion for writing, why I love Politics the way that I do or volunteer as much as I do. Graham Moore reminded me that I am special, no matter how weird, different or lonely that I feel. It’s okay because people like us bring dimensions, color and variety to the world. To all who’ve felt odd or off there’s a place for you. Seek it out and claim your space.

Ignorance is Bliss

My mini rant for the day. Winter Break, Easter Break and snow days are tools of the devil that torment parents. Too much time, over stimulated kids, too much energy in my children all contribute to my breakdown. With the cold, snow and my to do list, it’s been hard to keep up with my kids. It’d be different, if I could send them outside to play, not, it’s too cold. Can’t go to the library, it’s closed. My to do list today is long and has two meetings on it. So what is a Momma to do? I’m throwing my arms up because no matter what I do, my children don’t listen.

Case in point, the other night I tossed and turned in numerous attempts to get some sleep. My husband slept soundly beside me. Every five minutes some little person kept shouting out Mommy to annoy me. At first it was Daddy, but Daddy ignored them and slept soundly. I on the other hand heard every sound emanating from their room. After several attempts to get them to quiet down, I gave up. There’s only so much energy that I can expend.

Last night, it was Deja Vu all I heard was the TV. Suffice it to say, I’m tired and still busy. With the weather it’s been hard to take the kids places because its been so frigid. Prayerfully, things will get better later this week. Originally, I had some things planned for the kids, however my plans didn’t work out. There are still three more days left in the week. I have to get it together. My husband says “Take it one day at a time and learn to ignore them. They’re fine.”

My girlfriend yesterday reiterated the same message. That I have to learn to ignore and get my discipline game face on. She watched me struggle with my oldest yesterday and become completely flustered by him. It wasn’t pretty, however its my reality.

My reality, my problem, I’ll have to learn how to deal with this. Maybe once I figure it out, I’ll be able to write a book disclosing all my secrets. People say how this is such a wonderful time and that I should just enjoy it. That may all be true, however no one ever talks about how difficult and frustrating being a parent can be. Ignorance is bliss when you don’t know.

The Not So Sexy Side of Motherhood

Jogging pants, yoga pants, large t-shirts and robes are a mother’s best couture staples. Ponytails are also a staple. For me it was always  bun, now its a wrapped scarf. No dirt, food, snot, poop or pee can damage them. All new mothers learn very quickly that whatever is most comfortable for you to wear, you literally begin to live in that. Forget showers and grooming, kids take away time. Every mother adjusts, however most will say showers are a luxury. For me showers are a necessity even if I have to shower in front of an audience, like I’m a peep show exhibit in Amsterdam.

My couture staple is extra-large jogging pants with a big shirt and sweatshirt over it. I substituted my big blue fluffy robe because my husband complained. Now he groans about the sweatshirt, I just ignore him. A woman can only take so much. I’m sleep deprived and for me to really look nice, it takes an effort. I need a corset, moisturizer, make-up to cover up my under eye bags, a long hot shower, comfortable loose-fitting clothing and accessories to even get a semblance of the appearance of nice.

Being a Mom has taken away all my glamour. Often when I get glammed up, I’m usually exhausted  by the time I’m dressed. And I always wear the same thing, something dark. I have several white suits, which beckon me, however I will not wear them for fear that a little person will muck them up before I get to where I’m going.

It would be great if some designer would invent sexy yoga and jogging pants. The problem is once you’ve had a kid everything sags, hangs and has moved. It’s hard to know where or how you used to be when you were cute. Pregnancy is hard on boobs, butt, and you’re midsection. Then add multiple pregnancies and everything deteriorates so much quicker.

My problem is that I’m tired and rushing, which is often. Jogging pants and a shirt are so easy to do. In the summer i have my go to sandals. In the winter it’s more work because I have to put on boots, however layering in my sweats is so comfy.

I know that I should take time and dress up, but it’s so darn hard. There’s only so much time in the day. And everyone always needs something. I’m trying to do better, especially adding my jewelry back into the mix. Since my children are not so much into the grabbing phase, I can wear some jewelry again. Baby steps, I have to remind myself. So the next time you see a mother in very casual clothes, don’t judge. Support her by giving her a compliment, it’s probably been a while since she received one.  And if you see a mother dressed up, compliment her because you never know when she might do that again.

The 24 hour Mama: Somebody Always Needs Me

Being a Mom is a busy job from dawn to dusk and sometimes you’re even needed during the midnight hour. I never imagined that life would be this hectic and change so much with the addition of children to our family. The difference from one child to multiple children makes an even bigger difference in how families achieve balance. From infancy adapting to a sleep schedule, feeding schedule, teaching, guiding and directing them in the ways of being happy, smart, well-adjusted people to toddler, and growing into big kids to teenagers and so on. It’s overwhelming to say the least.

Last night after proudly announcing to my family that I would retire at 12:30 (because I recently discovered Jimmy Fallon, don’t judge me. I’ve been up to my eyeballs with kids for the last six years) which is early for me. At a quarter to 5am I was awakened by the sound of my youngest son rousing from a nightmare. The tone of his cry and the intensity let me know that it was probably a night terror. I went to his room and he was not tucked into his bed. Instead he was downstairs asleep on the couch. No biggie, I thought the boys are camped out downstairs in the living room. However, to my surprise my oldest was still awake watching TV. Yes, at 5am! He’d been up all night. Daddy was fast asleep on the couch, oblivious to it all.

I ushered the boys off to bed. Now I was awake, unable to sleep, I began to clean. My husband woke up and was like what are you doing? “I’m cleaning I responded because I can’t go back to sleep,” I stayed awake for the next 2 hours doing a variety of menial tasks throughout my house. An example, I changed the battery in my bathroom clock that had stopped. I accomplished quite a bit, however it still did not tire me out.

This is my plight I sleep a few hours each day never fully receiving the restorative rest that I need to function. I’m consistently exhausted, depressed, frustrated and short with everyone. During the night-time some little person will escape their bed and make a request just as if its daytime. I’ve taken care of sick, scared, needy and overstimulated children. It’s exhausting. Feeding, diapering, playing, etc. is so much more than what people tell you to expect.

A woman told me a long time ago that she would take a weekend at a hotel by herself, minus the family so that she could recharge her batteries. I’m going to have to do the same thing so that I don’t just completely breakdown, because unfortunately someone will always need me. My children are young and they have many needs, however so do I require a minimum of 8 hours of sleep to feel like myself. Hindsight is 20/20. If I knew what I know now, I would have married a wealthy man who could afford a nanny because all mothers need one. There are people who will tell you that they don’t however, everybody needs some help. I know I sure do. Being on call all day is exhausting….

Hyper sick roiditis

So I’ve resorted to making up words. Hyper-sick-roiditis, a parent who continually catches a contagious virus from their children. After having succumbed to another child inspired virus, I’ve decided to write the American Medical Association for assistance. I propose that all parents be given a booster shot similar to a child’s vaccination and create a schedule for parents to follow. This is utterly ridiculous. I’ve had hand and foot, the fever virus, all kinds of stomach viruses, walking pneumonia, upper respiratory infections and bronchitis triggered by exposure to a kids cold.

Yes, I said a kids cold. Those of you who might be relatively healthy and then have children know what I’m talking about. It feels like you’ve been slammed under a Mack truck. Every parent I know has a story where they’ve been so sick they felt like death was coming. Yes, I’m being sarcastic, however once you catch a kid something you’ll understand.

It’s like the germs are amplified a thousand times. No regular over the counter drugs work. Obscure concoctions of medicines have to be taken, at least that’s been my history.  I’ve had more sickness in the last six months than I’ve had in my entire 43 years on earth. So as I sip my hot tea, my Vernor’s, my chicken broth and take my antibiotics I wish you all good health. I’m going to hide out in my bedroom until the weather breaks and I can open my windows. Maybe then the fresh air will flush out all the toxins in my house. Hopefully my children’s germs won’t find me.

Depression

Depression is a thief that robs life from those afflicted. Its ability to transform a happy person into a worrier, full of sadness at a moment’s notice is downright scary. Some days I wake up with renewed energy (on those rare nights when I get to sleep) others it’s a struggle to get through the day. Schedules, household duties, family responsibilities, emotional meltdowns from an overly dramatic six-year-old or a feisty, stubborn two-year old make me just want to run into oncoming traffic screaming like a mad woman.

The enormous responsibility of being a mom and wife most days seems to overwhelm me. It’s hard to find the quiet place where you can recharge, reflect and rest. Depression is something that I’ve dealt with for several years now. It always seems to rear its head when there are enormous stresses occurring in my life. Counseling has always helped me, however what I really need is to be able to get my life back. I need my own creative space.

Creatively speaking and writing works for me, although the opportunities have been limited. Being intentional in my planning, still learning how to say “NO” (especially to my children) and being silent have helped me to cope some.

Having finally realized the dream of being published has been an amazing journey, but now it feels like I have stalled and am no longer moving, just treading water again. I like to be busy, however I appreciate having downtime. I think that’s probably my biggest struggle is managing all these other things and still having time for myself. If I physically went to an office each day and life was compartmentalized I might be in a better state of mind. Things would probably make more sense instead of how everything bleeds into each other since I work from home.

I feel like I literally run from one thing to another never fully completing anything, simply patch working at its best. I’ve got to do better and be better. My vision board is now complete. I’ve actually lost 10 lbs. toward my desired goal. Its one step at a time. I have to remember this. I’m a work in progress and depression can’t steal my joy.

Rose and the Enchanted Seven (A Preview)

A hissing sound echoed throughout the cave. A dark shadow lunged forward and struck the first woodcutter who entered. Cries of death filled the wild lands. The first woodcutter plunged face forward to the ground with a loud thud. Struck from behind, the second woodcutter fell against the wall. Brayden backed slowly out of the cave.

 “Mercy –oh great one!” Brayden pleaded. “Mercy! Mercy!”  

 A thick ball of black smoke formed and out of it sprang Anahi. Brayden trembled with fear. He fell to his knees. Anahi towered over him. A terrible dread filled Brayden.

“Please, don’t kill me!” Brayden begged.

Anahi’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. She smoothed her worn-to-shreds dress and ragged hair.

“I will spare your life if you will help me take revenge on the kingdom for banishing me,” Anahi said.

“I will do as you ask,” Brayden promised, bowing his head. “I am your humble servant.”

Anahi’s eyes gleamed like a black, glassy rock. She wanted to be the most powerful, evil ruler of all the lands and she would begin her dark reign in Detroit.