OK...so week one is done, and I am beginning week two. So for thhose of you that have been asking, here goes...
I am a little fish in a big pond. Akward feeling. I come from small ponds where I was the big fish...so to now walk into a reality where there are fish bigger than me...it is really intimidating.
I've walked into welcoming smiles...and those weird, "if you ever need me..call me", talks. But, I have also been welcomed by the "just remember, you are working for black women...so the welcomes won't last long...", conversation as well.
Where do I fit in? What is my purpose there? What do I bring to the table? What can I take from the table? More confusion to add to my life.
So far, in one week, here is my answer...
I am not sure where I fit in, but once I get my role and the tasks at hand, and my CEO, and am able to make it all my own...I will excel as I have always done. My mom raised me right. If anything, she taught me all about work ethic, so while I am intimidated for now...I will be just fin.
My purpose, is to answer the question that I've been asking myself all year. What now? All through school--both highschool and college, I've been active. I've been in a club, on a committee, or just that go to girl. Then, I let life happen, and I stopped caring. I want to be me again. I am surrounded by active women. Women active in their community, in ther church, at their workplace, in their school. And as they say, when in Rome...So, when I get my first paycheck...NCNW, here I come. I have also joined the PTA. I will learn the ropes with the hopes to become an elected member next year. I am on the fence about the church thing...stay tuned. I have even talked my husband into becoming active. After all, we have lil eyes watching our every step. He has since joined the Faternal Order of Police, will be paying his fraternity dues soon to become an active member, and is looking into joinig another fraternal order.
What do I bring to the table...I am able. 'nuff said.
What can I take from the table...as much as my arms can bear. There are so many divisions and so many lessons to learn. My boss is the type to pull from you what you didn't think you owned. For example, a woman that is a part of the HR department wore an african garment to work. From there, it is now her secondary job to organize the first annual ethnic day for our job. Not something that she thought sh knew how to do...but it is something that was pulled out of her. And for me...my boss knows that I like to plan events. So now, I am helping with the Scholarship Dinner Dance this January, and I will be organizing the Summer Family Picnic. Can I do this? Yes. I am able. 'nuff said.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
MOTHERHOOD
REAL MOTHERS
> Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
> Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
> Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
> Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of shag carpets.
> Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
> Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get their answer when a
> little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
> Real Mothers know that a child ' s growth is not measured by height or
> years or grade... It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mom to Mother...
> The Images of Mother
> 4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!
> 8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
> 12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
> 14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
> 16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
> 18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!
>
> 25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom 's opinion.
I THINK I AM AT THIS POINT!
> 45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
>
> 65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.
>
>
> The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she
> carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen
> from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart,the place where
> love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
> Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
> Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
> Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
> Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of shag carpets.
> Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
> Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get their answer when a
> little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
> Real Mothers know that a child ' s growth is not measured by height or
> years or grade... It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mom to Mother...
> The Images of Mother
> 4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!
> 8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
> 12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
> 14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
> 16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
> 18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!
>
> 25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom 's opinion.
I THINK I AM AT THIS POINT!
> 45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
>
> 65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.
>
>
> The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she
> carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen
> from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart,the place where
> love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
I'm confused...what the heck did they do to make you so mad?
OK...so today, me and the boys were in Mickey D's. We were placing our order. And all of a sudden, a woman yells in her outdoor voice that she can't stand no f*cking liar! And she goes on and on about how she will punch a m*ther f*cker in the face if he lies to her again because she don't play that sh*t. I didn't wince. For one, I was on Linden and Sutphin--why would I expect NOT to hear this. And two, my children are not strangers to cuss words. Hell, I can get in a mood to cuss like a sailor when I feel so.
Here's where I winced...after I placed my order, I turn around to and see that she was talking to one of the children that she was with. Now, I am cringing.
Sometimes, your kids get on your muther f*cking nerves. Sometimes, you want to kick their G*d damn ass. Sometimes, you want to beat the sh*t out of them. But NEVER, do you say these words to them. Ever. And PS...the operative word here is want...you would never kick their ass or beat the sh*t out of them either. But, when they dump all of their toys in the toilet and get their splash on...you honestly want to.
How can some people are so angry that they could talk to their children that way? How come they do not know that words, sometimes more than actions, are things that kids remember for the rest of their lives. Is that what you want your kid to remember you by? Horrible, abusive, disgusting words?
I'm confused.
Here's where I winced...after I placed my order, I turn around to and see that she was talking to one of the children that she was with. Now, I am cringing.
Sometimes, your kids get on your muther f*cking nerves. Sometimes, you want to kick their G*d damn ass. Sometimes, you want to beat the sh*t out of them. But NEVER, do you say these words to them. Ever. And PS...the operative word here is want...you would never kick their ass or beat the sh*t out of them either. But, when they dump all of their toys in the toilet and get their splash on...you honestly want to.
How can some people are so angry that they could talk to their children that way? How come they do not know that words, sometimes more than actions, are things that kids remember for the rest of their lives. Is that what you want your kid to remember you by? Horrible, abusive, disgusting words?
I'm confused.
Friday, September 5, 2008
I'm confused...what gave him the idea to do this?
Today, I went to the mall. I sat. And ate. And people watched.
I saw a man stand over the balcony above. He held one nostril, and blew snot out of the other. He had a handkerchief in his hand as he did this.
What the f?
I saw a man stand over the balcony above. He held one nostril, and blew snot out of the other. He had a handkerchief in his hand as he did this.
What the f?
Confused about toy choices
I'm looking at a junkiw living room. The floor is covered in mail, shoes, and toys. I see a gameboy, a sword, Operation board game, two balls, two puzzles, crayons, markers, a coloring book, an activity book, the Xbox. All in one room.
He's playing with a bobby pin. He's been playing with it for a good 20 minutes.
I. just. don't. get. it.
Gotta love that kid.
He's playing with a bobby pin. He's been playing with it for a good 20 minutes.
I. just. don't. get. it.
Gotta love that kid.
September 3rd...no confusion here.
January 7th. December 23rd. And now, September 3rd. Those are my three favorite dates.
So the big day came up this week. My baby started his first day at the big boy school. I wanted to end that baby school chapter of his life with a bang, so we went on a date. Just him and I. I realize, that this is the first time that the two of ius really hung out alone since December 23rd, 2006. What a shame. Oh well, lesson learned, I will never let that happen again.
So, on September 3rd...we woke up, got dressed, and began our day at 7:30. We started off by bringing the baby to his baby daycare. My big boy wanted to be the big brother, so he asked me to stay at the gate while he walked his baby to the front door of the daycare. So, I allowed him to play his position. He had his baby--who pushed his wheeled bookbag like a stroller--by the left hand. He held it carefully as he helped his baby up the stairs. His baby cried, but didn't fight. He walked, and allowed his big brother to lead him. I was proud of the both of them. My big boy rang the doorbell. They waited. Ms. Sarah opened the door. My big boy kissed his baby, and off we were on our date!
I asked my big boy where he wanted to go first...he was hungry. So, we went to IHOP. He knew exactly what he wanted. Two eggs and two bacons--he saw a picture of it on the senior menu...so that's what he wanted. And I let him tell the waitress what he wanted. While we ate, he did most of the talking. Right now, I'm not sure what he talked about because most of it was pretend "grown up" talk, but, it was a pleasure. From there, we were off to a suprise special place.
We drive...every couple of minutes, he asks..."Are we there yet, mom"? Not quite. We pull up to the fence with the big sign in front. Before I could announce that we were here, he yells "YAAAAAAAAH...the Bronx Zoo! This is my most favorite place"! Sidebar: anywhere you take that kid, he'll tell you it's his most favorite place...but it was a pleasure to hear it this time. We get in, I ask him where he wants to go first. Of course, my child point to the skyfari. Yes, yall...I know, I know...I watch the people on the news getting stuck in those things for hours at a time. And, I don't do rides...but that is where my big boy wanted to go, so that's where we went. I told him that I was scared, and he found reasons for me not to be scared. He explained to me, that i'd be ok once I put my seatbelt on. I didn't want to burst his bubble by telling him that a seatbelt would not help us if we went crashing to our deaths...but, I let him believe that he talked the fear out of me. We climbed in. There is a large pole that goes from ceiling to the floor of this cage that will lift us above the entire zoo. He tells me to hold on tight. I do. And...we're off. I was scared to death. He grinned from ear-to-ear. Pointing out all the "cool" things that he could see from below. The ride was over. We head over to the children's zoo. On the way there, I thought it wouls be nice to see the monkey house. He refuses because he doesn't want a monkey to throw banana's at him. Weird...but ok. We move on. We see a red carpet entrance to the Madagascar exhibit. I had always wanted to check it out. He didn't. I reminded him that Madagascar was one of his favorite movies, and he'd see the same animals from the movie in the exhibit. And the woman manning the gate also told him that none of the animals could "get" him. With a little trepidation, he agreed to check it out a little bit. We get one foot in the door. Some animal makes the call of the wild. It was an unpleasant sound. I turn around and my big boy has left me to go run and hide behind a tree. We never made it back to Madagascar. Along the way to the children's zoo...we saw some cute little chipmunks and a few pigeons. My big boy thought they were the coolest things ever. He got to see some animals up close. But chipmunks and pigeons? We could have sat on South Road and saw all that for free. But...whatever. He's having fun. We get to the children's zoo...He doesn't want to sit in the bird's nest, or climb the spider web, or smell what a skunk spray smells like. He doesn't want to look at the alligator tank. He's scared of the tarantula and the turtles. He doesn't want to pet the goats or feed the sheep. You know what he did for a good ten minutes straight. He climbed the rickety wooden stairs of the forest treehouse, and rode down the slide. Again...something we could have done for free at the park, but ok...my big boy is grinning and I am lucky to have this time alone. He's done sliding, and is ready to leave the zoo. We got there at 10:14...we left at 11:22. That must be a record. But, I do not feel it was a waste because on the way to the parking lot, my big boy looked at me and told me that this was a good day for him. I am so proud.
Next, we head to the barbershop. He climbs in the chair, and Tim starts to line him up. I'm quiet. Just looking. Pop sits next to me. He puts his arm around me. He makes small talk because I haven't been in the shop in a while. He asks about my little baby...and then he asks me if my big boy is getting ready for school. I look at my big boy--he's looking so mature with his new line up--I lose it. IN THE BARBERSHOP! NOW, all of the attention is on me. Pop, Bobby, and Tim have jokes on me. I am the laughing stock of the barbershop. Not only am I so embarassed, but now, so is my big boy! I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS! I am literally on the couch spilling my guts to the barbershop dudes. First, I let the 4 year olds at kiddie castle console me when I broke down on their last day of daycare, and NOW, I'm letting strange men console me, as they throw in jokes, in the barbershop! Still...his cut is done, and we must now go.
On the way to the car, I ask him where he wants to go now. He tells me that he is not ready to go home yet. So, to buy time, we head to the do it yourself car wash. Not only did my car get cleaned, but my child got filthy--he slipped in a puddle of mud-- and I got wet--he was holding the hose at the time that he slipped and lost control of it. Still...that's part of the fun. No worries here.
Where to next? He tells me that he's ready for a nap. My kinda date! So, we head home, clean ourselves off, change into fresh clothes, and hop in the bed. Two hours later, it's time to get the baby from baby school.
It was a simple date. Just him and I. But, it was the best date that I'd ever been on. We smiled, laughed, and giggled the entire time. No one bickered, or talked back. No one needed a spanking. No one complained. Just pure, honest fun. September 3rd is my third favorite day.
So the big day came up this week. My baby started his first day at the big boy school. I wanted to end that baby school chapter of his life with a bang, so we went on a date. Just him and I. I realize, that this is the first time that the two of ius really hung out alone since December 23rd, 2006. What a shame. Oh well, lesson learned, I will never let that happen again.
So, on September 3rd...we woke up, got dressed, and began our day at 7:30. We started off by bringing the baby to his baby daycare. My big boy wanted to be the big brother, so he asked me to stay at the gate while he walked his baby to the front door of the daycare. So, I allowed him to play his position. He had his baby--who pushed his wheeled bookbag like a stroller--by the left hand. He held it carefully as he helped his baby up the stairs. His baby cried, but didn't fight. He walked, and allowed his big brother to lead him. I was proud of the both of them. My big boy rang the doorbell. They waited. Ms. Sarah opened the door. My big boy kissed his baby, and off we were on our date!
I asked my big boy where he wanted to go first...he was hungry. So, we went to IHOP. He knew exactly what he wanted. Two eggs and two bacons--he saw a picture of it on the senior menu...so that's what he wanted. And I let him tell the waitress what he wanted. While we ate, he did most of the talking. Right now, I'm not sure what he talked about because most of it was pretend "grown up" talk, but, it was a pleasure. From there, we were off to a suprise special place.
We drive...every couple of minutes, he asks..."Are we there yet, mom"? Not quite. We pull up to the fence with the big sign in front. Before I could announce that we were here, he yells "YAAAAAAAAH...the Bronx Zoo! This is my most favorite place"! Sidebar: anywhere you take that kid, he'll tell you it's his most favorite place...but it was a pleasure to hear it this time. We get in, I ask him where he wants to go first. Of course, my child point to the skyfari. Yes, yall...I know, I know...I watch the people on the news getting stuck in those things for hours at a time. And, I don't do rides...but that is where my big boy wanted to go, so that's where we went. I told him that I was scared, and he found reasons for me not to be scared. He explained to me, that i'd be ok once I put my seatbelt on. I didn't want to burst his bubble by telling him that a seatbelt would not help us if we went crashing to our deaths...but, I let him believe that he talked the fear out of me. We climbed in. There is a large pole that goes from ceiling to the floor of this cage that will lift us above the entire zoo. He tells me to hold on tight. I do. And...we're off. I was scared to death. He grinned from ear-to-ear. Pointing out all the "cool" things that he could see from below. The ride was over. We head over to the children's zoo. On the way there, I thought it wouls be nice to see the monkey house. He refuses because he doesn't want a monkey to throw banana's at him. Weird...but ok. We move on. We see a red carpet entrance to the Madagascar exhibit. I had always wanted to check it out. He didn't. I reminded him that Madagascar was one of his favorite movies, and he'd see the same animals from the movie in the exhibit. And the woman manning the gate also told him that none of the animals could "get" him. With a little trepidation, he agreed to check it out a little bit. We get one foot in the door. Some animal makes the call of the wild. It was an unpleasant sound. I turn around and my big boy has left me to go run and hide behind a tree. We never made it back to Madagascar. Along the way to the children's zoo...we saw some cute little chipmunks and a few pigeons. My big boy thought they were the coolest things ever. He got to see some animals up close. But chipmunks and pigeons? We could have sat on South Road and saw all that for free. But...whatever. He's having fun. We get to the children's zoo...He doesn't want to sit in the bird's nest, or climb the spider web, or smell what a skunk spray smells like. He doesn't want to look at the alligator tank. He's scared of the tarantula and the turtles. He doesn't want to pet the goats or feed the sheep. You know what he did for a good ten minutes straight. He climbed the rickety wooden stairs of the forest treehouse, and rode down the slide. Again...something we could have done for free at the park, but ok...my big boy is grinning and I am lucky to have this time alone. He's done sliding, and is ready to leave the zoo. We got there at 10:14...we left at 11:22. That must be a record. But, I do not feel it was a waste because on the way to the parking lot, my big boy looked at me and told me that this was a good day for him. I am so proud.
Next, we head to the barbershop. He climbs in the chair, and Tim starts to line him up. I'm quiet. Just looking. Pop sits next to me. He puts his arm around me. He makes small talk because I haven't been in the shop in a while. He asks about my little baby...and then he asks me if my big boy is getting ready for school. I look at my big boy--he's looking so mature with his new line up--I lose it. IN THE BARBERSHOP! NOW, all of the attention is on me. Pop, Bobby, and Tim have jokes on me. I am the laughing stock of the barbershop. Not only am I so embarassed, but now, so is my big boy! I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS! I am literally on the couch spilling my guts to the barbershop dudes. First, I let the 4 year olds at kiddie castle console me when I broke down on their last day of daycare, and NOW, I'm letting strange men console me, as they throw in jokes, in the barbershop! Still...his cut is done, and we must now go.
On the way to the car, I ask him where he wants to go now. He tells me that he is not ready to go home yet. So, to buy time, we head to the do it yourself car wash. Not only did my car get cleaned, but my child got filthy--he slipped in a puddle of mud-- and I got wet--he was holding the hose at the time that he slipped and lost control of it. Still...that's part of the fun. No worries here.
Where to next? He tells me that he's ready for a nap. My kinda date! So, we head home, clean ourselves off, change into fresh clothes, and hop in the bed. Two hours later, it's time to get the baby from baby school.
It was a simple date. Just him and I. But, it was the best date that I'd ever been on. We smiled, laughed, and giggled the entire time. No one bickered, or talked back. No one needed a spanking. No one complained. Just pure, honest fun. September 3rd is my third favorite day.
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