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C.J is blessed to have both his maternal and paternal Grandmothers as well as a Great-Grandmother. The Mr. and I would be lost without them. They nag us, they sometimes yell, but we know it’s all out of love (and their crazy need to control). Now that all the niceties are out of the way, I have a theory about grandmothers.

My Theory: Once mother’s become Grandmothers they become liars.

YEP I said it, LIARS. Some like to say selective memory, but that’s just being nice. My Mom has such “selective memory” that sometimes I have to check in with my siblings to make sure I’m not crazy. This all hit me a few weeks ago when I spoke to her about teaching C.J. how to count and identify coins. I decided to get rolls of coins so he could learn to count—a roll pennies to start. He’d have to count to 50 to complete a roll. This would help him identify the coin, how many make 50 cents and most importantly, this activity would keep him busy. Win, Win,Win and for every roll he finished he could keep and deposit it into his account. Genius right? Well I can’t take the credit for it because my mom made us do it when we were kids. I hate coins to this very day because of this chore. The smell of pennies make me want to gag. I do believe some of my fiscal responsibility comes from having done this.

After deciding to share this with my son I called my mom. I was sure she’d be beaming with pride because I remembered this and wanted to do it with my son. But BOY WAS I WRONG! Not only was she upset, she went on and on about how unnecessary it was, and why would I have him waste time when he could just go to TD bank and dump his change for free. When I protested and said we did it she screamed, “No, you did not, Ra stop making things up,” I was flabbergasted! I made up some excuse about having to go because I was questioning my reality.

Did she really not make me do this? Am I repressing some weird memory. I immediately called my older sister, who could barely hold the phone she was laughing so hard. When she settled down she confirmed that YES my mom had us roll coins and I wasn’t going crazy. Thank God I’m not an only child because i could have ended up in the looney bin over this one. LOL!!

Styling and Profiling

When I look back on old pictures of the kids in my family I get a good laugh, but mostly I fall in love with our outfits. My mom loved to shop, so we were definitely stylish, but what I loved was that we looked like little kids; no labels plastered across our chest, bottoms and backs—the closest we got to that were underoos. In 2011, that’s just not the case and I grow increasingly frustrated with shopping for CJ. After a recent trip to Herald Square (a very rare occurrence) I came up with this list:

1. Labels: My child is not a bulletin board for your name brand, or whatever you want to call it. He is a child and his Polo shirt shouldn’t be the first thing people see, (have you seen this new logo?). I don’t make it a point to buy well-known brands (unless I get them from Marshalls or TJ Maxx) and at this rate I never will.

2. Thug appeal: Now look I’m from Brooklyn, so everyone including our kids own “Timbs” and a Champion hoodie. I’m positive that this is in the Brooklyn handbook (maybe even the New York handbook) but when I see 5 year olds dressed in sagging jeans (skinny or otherwise) and coogie sweaters I get upset. Kids don’t need to look like they are off to the club, or to the block to hustle. Cut it out.

3. Expensive footwear: I’m not focusing on Jordan’s. I am talking about high-end designers like Prada. I can’t see myself paying Prada money for CJ to scuff up. I’m that chick that used to clean her sneakers with a toothbrush. So, can you imagine how neurotic I would be over sneakers that expensive! LORD! Why don’t kids wear shoes anymore? My penny loafers were my best friend.

4. Embellishment: While on this shopping trip I saw jeans with jewels and intricate threading on the pockets and down the sides. Why? That just seems like a way to keep kids distracted: look at the pretty little sequins. Trust me, CJ doesn’t need any additional distractions he’s good.

5. PRICES: I am a frugal shopper, but by no means cheap, so when I see a $30 T-Shirt I immediately pause. Once I gather my thoughts, I’m out. Sneakers for $120 for him to outgrow in two weeks, nope. $60 for jeans that he will run and slide in causing holes in the knees, NOPE.

These are things I’ve faced while shopping for CJ. Thankfully I have many alternatives here in NY. For his jeans, I still go to The Children’s Place. They are always on sale. I also shop at Osh Kosh. I use the double coupon days they offer. During the holiday season I was able to get CJ a sweater for 21 cents! You can’t beat that. The prices are definitely a big draw and the quality of fabrics used can’t be beat!

Lastly, is my old friend Daffy’s. A lot of their stock comes from Europe and if you get in early it’s a mommy’s paradise. I hope this guides some parents away from the hip hop attire and back to dressing kids like kids not mini me’s.

More styling featuring Moi

Only the finest for me.

Count my numbers 1,2,3

I can even write my name with ease

Aren’t you very proud of me.

Kindergarten here we come (here we come)

Kindergarten here we come (here we come)

So long Pre-K it’s been fun.

Kindergarten here we come! ~ C.J 

This morning CJ started his journey to “Big Boys School” and he could not have been happier. He woke up early, got dressed twice (he didn’t want to wear his blazer), ate breakfast and called his grandma to sing the wheels on the bus. She seemed very happy about that. As we waited for the bus (hence the song) in the rain I realized (AGAIN) that my little boy is growing up and that I don’t much care for it. He jumped on that bus like he has been riding alone for years. I was shocked, just a peace sign and he was out. LOL

He’s FIVE and before I know it, he will be Six then SIXTEEN *faints* and all I can do is sit back and enjoy the ride. None of this makes any sense because you know from birth that your kids will get older, I knew at 2 he’s be taller than me, that he’d date all that stuff but as the bus pulled away that shit hit home.

He’s fiercely independent and I wouldn’t want him to be like other kids crying and not wanting to let go but sometimes I do. #Dontjudgeme. Man this mothering this is making me soft, let me log off and get some work done so that when his bus pulls up I can have his snack ready.

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Oh I’d like to say I didn’t cry until one of the nuns said “Just like when you bring your child to be baptized and they are called by their names we will call them by name as you bring them forward” TEARS MAN! Not as many as my sister but definitely TEARS SON! 


I’ve been playing a lot of “old school” Hip hop in the house lately since we’re trying to limit the amount of TV we watch (with the exception of Sundays criminal Minds)we haven’t really been watching.

Its fun to just dance around with CJ because he’s just so funneled is not a dancer so he usually just watches or goes to sleep….can you say KILLJOY boys and girls? LOL so the music is obviously seeping in because this morning when I dropped CJ off after our regular “what will happen at school” talk I said I love you much and remember who you are smart, strong and fearless. Now mind you we have this conversation EVERYDAY and he usually says I know, I love you too Mommy. Not this morning, he responds ” Mommy I’m the boom shaka laka, the chief rocka.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, I told you he was funny.

My morning started off hellish, I broke my heel, missed the 6:21 train and I really just wanted to go back to bed. CJ however was in a great mood, he was dancing and telling jokes and face it, only a mean callous person could resist his smiling face.

As i started to relax and decide to have a good day despite the hiccups i realized that CJ had on a million colors. Blue and orange hat, blue shirt, red and black jacket, and those damn sketchers *side eye coogie*. He didn’t care one bit but when i said C.J, you have on a million colors he responded in song, YES that verse..
“Mommy, you wanna talk, talk ’bout this and when I getting on they gonna talk ’bout that”. I just busted out laughing, he’s right so we just kept singing and walking. You should do the same!


Who do you admire? This question is asked of us at a very early age and often the answer is the same, our parents, Martin Luther King, Ghandi….on and on we go with the list. In the last year I’ve been asked this questions a few times (too many) and always the answer was the same until this morning.

This morning as I started getting ready for the day I peeped into CJ’s room to see if he was still asleep. He was awake looking at the ceiling peacefully. I realized at that moment MY son is who I admire most.  Some might shrug at this answer because admiration is often directly tied to accomplishment, and his list is short but it’s not that.

I admire my son’s honesty, his fearless nature, and LAWD knows I admire his energy!  Anyone that reads this blog, or has met CJ knows that he says everything with meaning and he expects you to believe it and not question it. That’s an awesome way to live, I feel like I was once that way but in my adult life that got me labeled a bitch. Why? because people can’t handle the truth. So we learn to tone it down, try to be politically correct and all that does it lead people to implode.

He’s fearless because in his mind nothing can happen to him, he’s a superhero and he will always be. Even when he gets hurt it doesn’t stop him. At such an early age he’s already learned that sometimes you cry, sometimes you hurt but you move on. Pretty powerful lesson that some adults could learn. Life is about the challenge, “you will fail, but you fail, fail again, fail better* ” and the next thing you know you’ve succeed.

The endless amount of energy, well that comes with being four but I’ve learned that the more I exercise, the more I unplug the less exhausted and cranky I feel.

I’ve thought about this for a few hours and I’ve realized that he is worthy of my admiration. He’s everything we once we’re and want to be again, honest, fearless and full of life. And it’s my job as his mom to make sure he NEVER loses that.

*quote is from Samuel Beckett

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new.

~Rajneesh

This is why on the birthday of my friends children, I also tell the mom Happy Birthday.

In the last few weeks I’ve come to the realization that In Laws really suck!

This week my sister-in-law called my husband four times this week to ask to “borrow”money. It seems that every week she has another crisis. But yet when we were having a hard time getting CJ to school because my husband’s schedule changed this woman wanted $40 every two muthafing days to drop CJ off. And let’s not forget when we let her stay with us RENT FREE for almost 6 months. UGH!

Then today my husband called his mom to check on her, see if she needed anything only to be bombarded with stupid comparisons to his older brother. ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? One of your 13 kids calls to check up on you and you sit on the phone and compares him to the son that ONLY shows up when he needs a babysitter? My husband (against my advice) has been trying to get his mom to move out here closer to us, but tonight after he told me this I made it PLAIN I do not want them out here. I don’t want them in to start making my life or my son’s life for that matter miserable.
It’s a damn shame because no matter what the issues my mom thought she had with him she doesn’t hold on to them 18 years later. My grandmother loves him to death and so do my sisters. One would think that his OWN mother would forgive whatever it is she is harboring. They just make me so damn angry and I thank God for the mother I have EVERYDAY.

CJ and I get up VERY early during the week so I like to lay down until at least 7:30 on the weekend. CJ usually gets up early, brushes his teeth and gets dressed (usually in a halloween costume) and then goes to lay on the sofa.
This weekend we both got up got dressed and when I went to lay back down on my bed, CJ came running in and told me he needed to talk to me.

CJ: Mommy I really need to tell you this.
Me: shoot
CJ: Mommy guns are bad and that’s not what I want to talk about.
Me: Uhm okay. What do you want to talk about.
CJ: *spinning around* I just wanted to say I am going to the bathroom now and I need Peace.
Me: Have at it. I’m all for peace in the bathroom.
CJ: Me too. High five, oh later after I pee *runs away*

What in the world am I going to do with this boy?!?! And what does he know about needing peace. LOL.

This morning while on my way to work CJ decided to be 4 and test my limits. So as per my motherly duty I spoke to him in a tone that let him know that if he continued I would snatch him the hell up. He sensed my anger and apologized and sat down. I didn’t curse, nor did I raise my voice so imagine my surprise when the lady next to me chimed in that he seemed like a nice boy and I didn’t have to yell at him. *please hold*……

How do I say this without sounding like a self righteous bitch? Mind your GOD damn business, Yes that’s it. I politely told her that my sons well being was none of her concern and that maybe she should focus on her own children. Guess what she didn’t have any kids! I just left it at that.

I’ll explain this one time, My son is just that MY SON! The only people that have any right to speak on how I speak to him share a last name, and even then tread lightly. But in this particular case when a child is being disciplined, not beaten, cursed or any other form of excess discipline keep you mouth shut. You are undermining my authority because you think you have a right too and you don’t. This PC village to raise a child mentality has gone WAY to far! This might sound crazy but the village that aid in raising my child does not include any random person off the street. My Village is contained and the villagers are hand chosen by ME, so if you think you have the right to speak to me about my child then please prepare for the tongue lashing that will follow.

 

February 2012
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