I can count the number of times I’ve been in an emergency room on my left had. Once when I was 12, when I was pregnant, when the munchkin was 5 weeks old and fell (ok, I dropped him) out of his bouncy chair, and again last night.

Flip flops and three-year-olds do not mix. Yesterday, the munchkin was running around my grandmother’s living room., tripped, and hit his face on her wooden coffee table. At first, I thought he would bounce back up, like usual, but then I heard the screams. Then shrieks. Then blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

I was shook.

I’ve never heard my child scream so loudly in my entire life. Blood poured out--all over my shirt, all over his face. It was crazy. Seeing him in so much pain nearly broke me. My heart opened, and I almost cried myself, but I held it in, not wanting to scare him even more.

And then we were off to the ER, and I assumed, to wait until…...

We’ve all heard the stories, people dying while waiting to be seen by an ER doctor have been reported all across the country. Here in Los Angeles, one county hospital (“Killer King” no less) closed after it was found to provide substandard treatment to patients (mainly poor w/ no insurance). Which brings me to the health care debate happening all over the country right now.

Until now, I’ve pretty much stayed out of it. The specifics of the bill being kicked around by Congress is so complicated my head hurts. I try to focus on things that directly effect me (and that I can understand), but sitting in the ER waiting room brought it all home.

I have health care. I’ve always had health care, except for the time I needed it most.

When I found out I was pregnant, I didn’t have health insurance and I couldn’t afford it either. I was finishing grad school and had just been laid off from my job. Had it not been for PCAP, a program in NYC that provides free prenatal care for low/no income pregnant women, I would have been shit out of luck.

The center of the storm surrounding the health care debate seems to stem from people who have health care, not wanting to extend it to those that do not. The opposition throws around the term “socialism” to stop any sensible debate about why all Americans shouldn’t have a CIVIL right to health care. I don’t get it. Those who don’t want to extend health care to the uninsured also find themselves in ER waiting rooms, waiting to see doctors who are busy with non-emergency health issues, right? So why not make sure we’re all healthy? If everyone is insured, which allows people to not only see a doctor when they’re sick, but to get preventative care, it makes us all healthier and more productive.

So what is this debate really about?

~~
What would you like to see in a Health Care bill?
Do you think everyone should be insured?
Been to the ER lately? How long did you wait?

(pic taken on my FIRST ride on a Ferris Wheel...last month!)

I am sitting here trying to figure out where summer went. Yes, I know. It's only the beginning of August, but I know the end is near. I can feel it. The end of the summer, the end of lazy days with the munchkin, the end of just hopping in the car on a Tuesday afternoon to go...anywhere. It's almost a memory.

At the end of the month the munchkin will be starting preschool and I'll be moving on to another, a little tougher, middle school teaching assignment. Honestly, I'm not at all ready. I AM excited about preschool. Excited because I know he'll LOVE it! But the going back to work part? Ehhhh, let's just say I'm hoping to hit the lotto before Labor Day!

Teaching is noble. It's necessary. Great teachers have a profound effect on kids' lives. But it's so damn labor intensive. It's tiring, it's frustrating at times, and I'm not at all ready to go back on the grind. Does this mean I need to figure out another profession? I dunno. I do love working with kids and having a positive effect on their future, but teaching takes such a toll on me that I feel like I'm shortchanging the things I love: my child, my writing, myself.

Hopefully it will get better as the year(s) go on. Maybe I'm just nervous about switching schools & the prospect of going into a tougher situation than I was in before. Or maybe, I'm just a little sad that the summer is ending and I'll have to wait another 9 months to feel completely free.


~~
What are your plans for the last few weeks of summer?
What haven't you done that you still want to squeeze in?

(my son, the ham)


My son, in all his three-year-old glory, loves to be around other kids. He loves running, jumping, kicking balls--the usual--and gets so giddy when he sees other little people around. Although, he used to be THAT kid (borderline playground terror), he's turned out to be quite a nice little boy. But as he gets ready to enter preschool, I'm starting to get a little nervous about the habits he'll pick up from other kids.

One thing I've noticed is that my son is usually so eager to play with other kids, that he can be a little too over the top. Often times he follows other kids around the playground, gets really close to them (in a nice way), and can't seem to get the hint when they don't want to play with him. When we're on the playground, I often have to call to him and tell him that so-and-so doesn't want to be followed around. When kids shun his friendliness, his feelings are completely hurt, and he comes to me crushed and on the verge of tears. My heart can't help but ache a bit, and I'm quick to give him some mommy love.

As I hold my son and try to assure him that someone else will want to play, I sometimes wonder how I'll teach him to be a confident, respectful kid who won't be a follower and will not be devastated when kids are mean.

I posted my question on twitter, and got some sound advice from another mother:


Although I'm starting to have more and more conversations with my son (and I feel like he actually UNDERSTANDS what I'm telling him), it never occurred to me to have him address not only me, the adult, but the offending child as well. It's so simple right? But gearing up for preschool I was so worried about him being mistreated and allowing it to go on, or worse, reacting to it and then being blamed, that my first bit of advice to him was, "tell your teacher if someone's being mean, ok?" He usually nods his head and then runs off a whole list of people he'll tell (mommy, daddy, abuela, pawpaw), as if we'll all swoop down to his defense. While I'm happy he knows he can count on us, I'm more interested in teaching him how to deal with these sorts of situations on his own.

So how do you teach your kids to stick up for themselves respectfully? How can I prepare my munchkin for the newness of preschool, and protect him from picking up new bad habits?

I'd love to hear from the mamas (and the papas) on raising confident, respectful kids. Comment!

If you haven't noticed before, I love Twitter (follow me!). It's allowed me to connect to lots of interesting people, with fascinating ideas, words, and blogs. It's continually shown me how small the world is becoming & how connected we all are.

When I was in San Francisco, I saw a tweet from Renee Ross about an opportunity for Moms of Color to attend the BlogHer conference. BlogHer is a site for women bloggers to interact and promote their sites and their conference is its premiere event. It brings together women bloggers from all across the word and hosts sessions on writing, building your business, social media, and so much more. I've eyed it from a distance, always wanting to go, but never taking the plunge. Most of my travel surrounds visiting beloved, or taking the munchkin someplace cool, so when I saw Renee's tweet, I decided, "what the hell" and I sent a message to the sponsor, Mom Noir.



Mom Noir is a new site for moms of color that will be covering everything from beauty to travel, parenting advice to pop culture. I'm excited to see it come to fruition, and I'm also excited because they are sponsoring my trip to BlogHer '09! Who knew sending one little tweet would lead to an all-expenses paid trip to one of the hottest Blogging conferences in the country? To borrow a phrase from the yougins, I'm geeked up!

I'm leaving tonight, heading to Chicago, and onto a new adventure. This experience, finding a sponsor, has opened up a whole new world to me. I can't wait to meet powerful, interesting, and engaging women who blog. One of my goals is to stop working for someone else & sustain myself through writing. Who knows, this conference may help me make connections and learn how to reach my goals.



~~
Are you going to BlogHer? (or have you been?)
Has Twitter (or any other site) changed your life for the better?
If you had a sponsor, what would you like to do?

The first time my son met his father was in jail.

Blistering cold out, I wrapped my almost two-month-old son in a baby-blue snowsuit, and a hand knitted blanket and walked to the train station. We took the E train in Queens, then transferred to a bus that would take us to Rikers Island.

When the bus crossed the bridge onto Rikers Island, I didn't know what to expect. Even though I was somewhat of an around-the-way girl and had cousins who had been in an out of the prison, I had never set foot in a jail. My experience with jail was only what I'd seen on Law & Order, and from the looks of the show, Rikers was like the ninth circle of hell.

When I got off the bus gripping my newborn son, I didn't know I'd have to go through three sets of metal detectors, leave everything I carried for the baby—except for a blanket—in a locker, remove my shoes, shake out my bra, and take off my socks just to spend an hour with my beloved and introduce him to his son. It was a humbling experience, and I never wanted to do it again, but it's been three years, and this is our life…for now.

Raising a child is an arduous task. Raising a child alone is even more daunting. Because his father is away, I am in the precarious situation of being a not-so-single, single mother. Although his father tries to father our son through visits, phone calls, and letters, he is not able to be with us on a day-to-day basis, which means it's up to me.

I never planned on being a single mother. When my beloved was locked up, we were a week away from ushering our son into the world. We had bought all of the necessities, celebrated with two baby showers, and were happily awaiting his arrival. One night, our lives changed in an instant, and I was thrust into the difficult role of being another single, black girl with a baby.

When my son was first born, I vowed that even though he was being raised in the absence of his father, he wouldn't want for anything. I have made it my mission to give my son every advantage, every opportunity, and every indulgence that is feasibly possible. And even though we now live 3000 miles away from his father, I have made a conscious effort to keep our family intact and make sure we see him as much as humanly (and financially) possible. Even at three, my son knows both his mommy and daddy love him fiercely, and he is happy.

Solo-parenting my son has been both rewarding and very lonely. When we venture out to the park or to the movies or anywhere and see complete families, a hint of sadness curls around my heart because I am reminded of what is lacking in our life. Although beloved and I are together, I am still the one parenting our son alone, making sure he doesn't feel as though he has missed out on anything just because mommy's raising him by herself.

Since becoming a parent, I've become acutely aware of how I'm viewed, and have gone out of the way to make it known I'm not the stereotypical single mom. Even though single parents are raising more children, there is still a huge stigma that looms above our heads. And for black women, it's even worse.

I am not your stereotypical single mom. I have both a Bachelor's and Masters degree, I'm a professional, and I make a decent living. I am not on welfare, I'm not out having multiple babies by multiple fathers. I am young, black, and gifted and a mom.

As my son grows older and becomes more aware of his father's absence, I know I will have to explain the situation and reiterate that he is loved truly, deeply, and completely by both of us. He will have questions, and I pray we will have the answers. But for now, I am enjoying having my son all to myself. I am blessed to experience all his funny faces, silly dance moves, and I loves yous and not feel selfish one bit.

Ann Coulter makes me itch. Which is exactly why I try to avoid her pasty, sardonic expressions and severely offensive tone whenever humanly possible. But lately, it’s been hard to ignore her media blitz to promote her new book, which attempts to demonize single motherhood and the children they raise.

Ann Coulter’s bombastic rants are nothing new. In her latest flurry of appearances, she seems to be taking her ire out on all of the single mothers. In her book, Guilty: Liberal 'Victims' and Their Assault on
America, she argues that “[s]ingle motherhood is like a farm team for future criminals and social outcasts,” and claims that children of divorce are “future strippers.” She asserts the liberal media has championed single motherhood while actively working against the nuclear family.

Her assertion about single motherhood being the gateway to all social ills is extremely problematic. Although she sites some fuzzy statistics, she does not take into account the socio-economic conditions that ail a great deal of single parents. Raising a child is an expensive endeavor. And raising a child alone is
extremely arduous, requiring you to not only stand in the gaps, emotionally, for your child, but also provide financially. Becoming a single parent isn’t a
choice many take on purposefully, but according to Coulter’s logic, single mothers have become so by choice, aided by the “liberal media’s” attack on the nuclear family.

I’ve noticed something. Whenever white women begin to break away from social norms, somehow an assault on “the American family” has occurred. Black women have been raising children alone for years. Slavery (I know, we don’t like to talk about it) caused many of our foremothers to raise children in the absence of their father because he was sold away. The “nuclear” family was but a dream for enslaved African-Americans who struggled to piece together a family broken by systematic racism, and Black women were left to work and raise children solo, wishing it were possible to
have her partner’s assistance. But instead of dealing with the issue of single motherhood holistically, taking into account the historical plight of people of color, Coulter simplifies the issue to make her point.


In an attempt to further her thesis and to dig her right-wing heels into our President-Elect, Coulter argues that President Obama, as well as other prominent mixed-race African-Americans, have insulted their white single mothers by identifying with their African-American roots. She claims that by identifying with the ethnicity of their black fathers, they have “establish[ed] victimhood status in America,” which helped them become successful. Apparently Coulter needed to explain away the reasons that Obama, Halle Berry, and Alicia Keys, all raised by single mothers, did not fit into her assertion that children raised by single moms are ready for the state pen. She had to come up with something, seeing as the WASPy White House ceiling has been cracked and shattered for good. Once again Coulter doesn’t incorporate the historical significance of ethnic identity. She acts as if mixed raced African-Americans have never been identified as “black” (uh, one drop rule anyone?) and Obama et. al is doing so just to play up their disadvantaged plight.

It is easy to look at Ann Coulter and dismiss her as a self-obsessed, mad woman. I mean, that’s how I see her anyway. The problem with that, however, is that many
agree with her divisive views. Her books have climbed to the top of the New York Times Best Sellers list, and she has found a home on a myriad of conservative
media outlets. The trouble with Ann Coulter, as with any outlandish talking head, is their ability to get people to think like them. It is people like Coulter that carved American into parts, both “real” and “fake,” and attempted to pit the two against each other in a commercialized culture war.

Luckily for us, America has, in spite of itself, elected a man, the son of a single mother, who vows to unite us. I am hopeful that President Obama is the antidote to the divisive discourse that has been permeating our airwaves as of late.

so, i've been toying with the idea of throwing the munchkin a birthday party in a few weeks. to date, he hasn't had a "real" party. he's had some birthday dinners, but what does that really mean to a 2 year old? my argument has always been that he would never remember a party & it would mean absolutely nothing to him anyway, but apparently, those around me are looking at me like i'm depriving my child of some sort of right of passage.

as i sit here and search for a site (Chuck E. Cheese?) for a party, the sheer amount of money people spend on these celebrations is sort of daunting. first, the venue. i don't have the luxury of a backyard, so having it at home is out. there's Chuck E. Cheese, which is fairly cheap if you have the party during the week, and a bit more expensive on the weekends. then you have your specialty places such as The Little Gym or Kid's Concept which is asking approximately $500 for the venue and a "party attendant," which just sounds absurd to me. and finally, there's the park, which is my personal favorite, but seeing as the kid's birthday is close to the end of October, the weather can be a bit dicey. i'm on the verge of just buying him another FABULOUS birthday cake & calling it a day.

all this talk about paying for a venue, and party favors, and a gift brings me back to the cost of raising a child on your own. because i like facts, i googled it and i found this:


(click to enlarge)

according to msn money's central, it will cost me approximately $250,000 to raise my son (which doesn't include the cost of college). when i think about that amount my mind is blown. it's so hard for me to wrap my mind around the money it takes to provide for my son, and going at it alone is even more stressful. i don't want him to miss out on anything simply because we are all we got (for right now), but i can't spend carelessly on gifts and parties either.

i was listening to This American Life the other day and they profiled Geoffery Canada and his project, The Harlem Children Zone. a friend of mind used to work there, and i was really intrigued and inspired by their work. Mr. Canada's mission is to provide education to the kids of Harlem from birth through college in the hopes that focusing on the child (not the parent) will help raise kids out of the cycle of poverty. listening to the broadcast solidified in my mind that no matter how much money you make, what matters is how much time and energy you invest on the things that actually count. reading to your child, letting him explore his world, tempering discipline, all of these things will mean more in the long run than how fabulous his 3rd birthday party was.

On a recent trip to the park, I was reminded of the staggering gaps in race and class when it comes to mothering. The park was full of moms—mostly white—with coolers chock full of snacks, toys, screaming, barefoot kids, and Benz SUVs. This world felt foreign to me and about as inviting as a new, awkward kid’s first day of school.

Of the many moms out that day, I was the only Black mother, or parent, for that matter. As I listened to a group of moms discuss plans for their next playgroup and Mom’s Night Out activity, I wondered, where are all the black moms and playgroups for people that look like me?

I hit the net searching for information. First I did searches for African-American moms, mothering, and working moms and playgroups. After punching in a myriad of search terms dealing with mothering, I came up empty handed. Most resources for African-American moms either dealt with stay at home moms, or poverty and African-American moms, none of which answered the questions I had in my head.

Despite the lack of internet resources, I know I’m not alone. My situation is hardly unique. I’m an educated, working mother, who is solo parenting a rambunctious two-year-old son. There are millions of women like me, yet no one seems give a damn. An article on the National Organization of Women website discussed the media’s virtual ousting of mothers of color. It states,

If you read major newspapers and news magazines or watch network news broadcasts, you may have the impression that all mothers are white, married, college-educated and have (or have abandoned) careers in high-profile professions such as law, medicine, broadcast news or finance.

And although they are poorly represented in media reporting on working mothers, African-American mothers have a higher rate of working outside the home than any other demographic. Married African-American mothers with children under 18 have higher rates of workforce participation than other married mothers (82 percent compared to 71 percent of white moms, 66 percent of Asian moms and 62 percent of Latina moms, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

So where are the real representations of moms that live outside of what society deems as the norm? Are we left to fend for ourselves, and continue to feel like outsiders on playgrounds across America? Something has got to change.

We need a place, a resource where both working and stay at home moms (married or single) can come together and share, commune, and find answers together. I have to yet to find that place, so maybe I should stop looking, and create one.