Black Like Me

I don't get. There is a young black girl, 18 I think, who did a documentary where she got some black first graders together and put 2 dolls in front of them. One black doll and one white doll, she asked the children, which doll is better or nicer, all the little black children picked the white doll. I can't believe it's still happening, this documentary is based on a similar test that was administered some 50 years ago. The little black children picked the white doll then, and they're still picking the white doll today. I can't believe we haven't moved one inch.

I'm so baffled and frightened. How long will it take to undo the damage that's been done to those children, our children?

Coleman is going to be three in September. Coleman goes to a school where he is the only black child with two black parents!!! All the other black kids are either adopted or biracial. Granted, it's not a huge school, the preschool maybe has 50 kids in it, but that shows you how much the times have changed and yet they haven't.

They learn so much in these first few years, so much of their personality is formed and solidified. I don't want Coleman to have this ridiculous notion that white is better. Is it too late? Has it already happened? Can I stop it? I'm gonna have to go stand over his little bed while he's sleep and whisper in his ear - Black is beautiful. Black is good.

I'm angry right now. Stop the foolishness!!

Potty Time

He's doing it, we're almost there. Except for nighttime and nap time, Coleman is in his big boy underpants, no more diapers. I never thought we'd get to this point. But he really has got the hang of saying when he has to go to the potty. Once and a while he'll forget, either he's too tired, or he's in the middle of an intense play session and nothing else matters, so he'll just pee on himself. We don't make a big deal, we just clean him up and move on.

It's very interesting the whole potty experience. First he just pulls off his pants, that's our first indication that he has to go, so we'll rush to the bathroom, he has his own little potty that he sits on, it's across from the toilet, so I usually sit across from him, to keep him company. We sit in silence for a couple of seconds, staring at each other, trying to come up with something to say. After a few seconds I ask if he's finished, sometimes it's yes, sometimes it's "I got poop daddy," in which case, we sit in silence for a few seconds more, then I ask "finished?" Sometimes, he says "I got some more." So if I know we're going to be a while, I'll start a sing-a-long. If there's a book handy, I'll read it to him.

It's a very nice father/son bonding moment.

Parent/Teacher Conference

How do I rebel against this knowing your teacher by their first name crap? Coleman's preschool teacher is Valentina, I have no idea what her last name is. When we were growing up, wasn't it the opposite?? Some of my favorite teachers in the whole world, I still don't know their first name till this day.

Do you remember being in a store or a mall shopping with you parents and seeing your teacher? Remember how weird that was? You would say to your mom, there's my teacher Mrs. Anderson. And Mrs. Anderson would come over and some weird man would be walking with her holding a bunch of bags, and she would say hi to you and then introduce herself to your mother, using her first name!! "Hi, I'm Virginia Anderson." Virginia!!!! Like the state? And this is my husband Harry. Harry!!! She's married?? Who the hell would marry her? Remember you had this big goofy, stupid grin on your face, you couldn't believe you knew your teachers first name. Couldn't wait to get back to school and tell EVERYONE!!

I just don't like the first name thing. But I don't want Coleman to be the only one calling everybody Mr. or Mrs. Maybe other parents secretly want it too, but are too afraid. It's going to be hard, I'm just beginning to learn other parents first names, now I gotta learn last names!!! Forget it.

I get it

Freshman year at Morehouse College, Xmas break, I get off the plane from Atlanta and my mom picks me up at the airport. I'm wearing a brand new Guess Denim jacket, I don't remember how much it cost, it was a lot I'm sure, and it wasn't denim jacket wearing weather, but I didn't care. My mom, Miss Eagle Eye, notices right away. New Jacket? I smiled, nodded, shrugged. "Here I am walking around with holes in my stockings sending you to school, and you come home wear that??" I'm thinking to myself, stockings cost a dollar or two, what's the big deal?

Cut to... 20 years or so later:

Winter has arrived and I discover I have 4 left handed gloves. Not a right handed glove to be found. Oh well I thought, I'll get around to getting a pair soon. A couple of days later, Coleman pulls a right handed glove from out of his toy box and starts playing with it. BINGO! I have a set of gloves for the winter. That same day I lost the left hand of my only matching set of gloves. BUT... all was not lost, I now have a right hand and 3 other left handed gloves, so I still have a pair, they just won't match.

So my mom's stockings, I get it now.

Coleman grew out of his pajamas almost overnight, the 2T shirts were riding up on his little pot belly. So I went to Gap.com and OldNavy.com and ordered him about 10 nights worth. Some were on sale, some were not, it didn't matter, my boy needed PJ's. I've discovered the joy and challenge of parenthood - When do you take care of you?

How long to you put off even the simplest things, like new winter gloves because you keep forgetting to put yourself on your to do list?

Winter is over, I'll put gloves on my Xmas list.

Dr. Babysitter

Some University or College should offer a PHD in babysitting. We gotta come up with a way to give these people more money. You could certainly command more money if there is a doctor in front of your name. I think we ought to start paying people who watch our children like they were high powered attorneys or Derek Jeter. I'm just thinking out loud people.

Why is the most important job in the world the least respected, least compensated?

It's been almost 4 months since my last blog entry, busy, busy, busy. Good busy, Work busy. Making money busy. And Coleman has been hanging in there. Day care, baby care is such a huge issue. How do we get the best, most responsible, loving nurturing, caring person to look after our treasures, but not have to pay for it? And we do have to pay sometimes. We have a great babysitter, one flight down. Coleman has been going to Bruni and Felix, a retired couple with grand kids, since he was maybe a year old. I'd love to pay them $100 an hour, instead we pay $10/hour. On one hand I know $10/hour for a reliable, trustworthy babysitter is the deal/steal of the century, but on the other hand, if I know its going to be a busy week and he's going to be there 5, 6, or 7 hours a day, it adds up to a huge chunk of change.

We have my mom, he's been spending many weekends with my mom. God bless grandma's all over. We also have the best neighbors in the world, right next door, Leki and Lili, who take Coleman in whenever they can, whether it's for an hour or hours. He loves them and they love him and best of all they don't charge us. I would love to come home after an evening out and hand Leki and Lili a grand or so. "Thanks for loving and nurturing my child, keeping him safe, teaching him, entertaining him, feeding him, changing him, here's a thousand dollars. And are you available Friday night?

Don't get me started on what we pay teachers, even the ones with PHD's!!!