Snow Day

Snow in Los Angeles, who whatta thunk it? So we the ladies of the square decided to get together and do something a little fun for the kids, having no idea how fancy and expensive it would turn out. It was a hard fought battle through a jungle of opinions and :i would've-s," but we worked through it and almost everybody is talking to each other again. What's so shameful is that it was one of those days when you realize how good you have it. The sun was shining, the hot coco was perfect, most of the the kids I know were laughing riding down sleds with each others. The dads were helping all the kids as if every single one of them was their own. We brought a few changes of clothes, because us LA folk don't have snow suits on tap. It was an amazing day and although I cringe at the thought of having to plan and offend again, I know it will be worth it once again.

Noah and her star, nana

So I always had a feeling that these Disney movies were damaging our kids. The 16 year old brides, the waist lines the radius of a cheerio and the prince charming saving them. But it's nearly impossible to keep them away from that stuff. It means no trips to the movies, it means no Friday nights with pizza and some quiet time, it means less time with other kids, it means fights with the grandparents who have been waiting to share the insanity of Disney and its products since they were born. So tonight as I was ricking Noah she got very upset and told me she sees pictures in the air. "And not just the giraffe and rhino mommy." Those are the two pictures above the rocking chair. After much assurance she told me she's afraid a witch is going to hurt nana and turn her into a star just like the bug from Princess and the Frog. She doesn't want nana to die while she's just a little kid. Through tears and insecurity about what is the best thing to do and say in that moment i try to explain to her that she is in charge of the pictures she sees. But she wasn't convinced. She said the pictures aren't ever going to go away until she, herself, becomes a star. And although it broke my heart, she's probably right.

A perfect day in a pretty amazing life

When I'm not moody, or hungry, or jealous I remember how lucky I am. Most of the time I am peaceful and thankful and happy to be exactly where I am. Other days like now, I am tired and feel like my head is going to explode if the kids don't lower their voices. Today was one of those days when they yelled way too much, listened way to little and fought so much my heart has a crack in it now. There are times when I have come to the bottom of my bag of tricks. All the nice ways of saying, Stop what you are doing before I'm tempted to beat you up" are exhausted. It's times like this when I say something through a smile and it makes Noah cry because she knows how angry I am and how mad I am at her. Today was one of those days. I am happy to put them to bed, a little resentful that Broderick is in Miamii partying with women half his age and I;m here in my pjs at the end of my rope. But this picture is from a totally different kind of day. This day I would've trader Broderick for George Clooney or my kids for a Starbucks. This day I was the mother or all mothers. Happy, patient, well dressed and anxious to spend every last second of the day with them. I am lucky and have done a lot of work to make sure I have more of these kinds of days than the days lie today. It's why I have a nanny. It's why I know it's important to write and have a life of my own. But this Sunday at the beach was a delight. I woke up late, too late for church and I only had to ask Broderick once if he wanted to go to Shutters for breakfast and then let the kids run on the beach. Not only did he agree, he agreed whole-heartedly. He didn't do it out of guilt, but because he really wanted to spend time with us. Breakfast was tasty and healthy and the kids didn't break anything, throw anything ot offend anyone. We sat on the beach and I read two articles while they ran in the sand and breathed the fresh air that only the ocean can purify. Broderick fell asleep and I walked the kids to the pier while they chased birds, collected shells and begged me to go to the carnival (which I promised for the next time Nana comes to visit.) We walked back wet, sandy and ready for a nap. They both feel asleep on the way home.... what could be more perfect than that?

When Georgetown came to Cali

This was taken months ago when the Hoyas came to play in some UCLA tournament. The kids jumped on the bed in the hotel room and ate fruit roll ups and bad pizza. It's always a joy to see the Thompson kids with Noah and Isaiah. They are a good influence and the closest thing they have to cousins. Isaiah has asked a few times to go to John John's house. Not realizing it's all the way in DC. The other day I called to speak to Monica and John told me to tell Noah and Isaiah that he loved and missed them. See, I told you, soo sweet.

This hair thang

When I was pregnant with Isaiah I thought I wanted a girl. I say "thought" because of course I was wrong. I got exactly what I wanted - the best boy ever. But I "thought" i wanted a boy for various reasons. For one because I always hoped to have three and I wanted it just like I grew up, two girls first and then a boy. I also thought I'd have a better chance of convincing Broderick of adopting if we had two girls. I've assumed if we adopted it would be a boy. AND I had a girl and wanted exactly what I had and loved. So one day right after I had had Isaiah I was walking into the house and ran into my neighbors cousin and she asked what i had had. She knew, or I told her that I wanted another girl. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "No, two heads of hair to do? It's much better this way." How right she was. Noah's hair is one of the most gorgeous things about it. Since she was a baby, it's what everyone notices. It's wild, a different and beautiful. BUT!! But, it takes at least 20 minutes every day to brush. As I am writing this she is whining behind me, begging me to straighten her hair. Now, i am not some crazy white mom who has put it into her head that straight hair is better. What has happened is a mixture of influences. I use a flat iron to get the frizz out. Most of the girls at her school have long straight hair. Now, I have at least 8 books that talk about the beauty of ethnic hair. I have African books about hair, I have vintage books about hair. I have clever funny books about hair and all of them emphasize how important it is to love your hair. I tell her all the time I love her curls and how beautiful hair takes work. I have had her dad tell her the same thing in his way. But, honestly, I tired of dealing with it. About 2 years ago I came very close to cutting it short, but a friend stepped in and begged me not to. I'm afraid Noah is going to look back at all the pictures of her as a child and notice a fuzzy halo surrounding her head. But I've seen the light. After this same friend suggested getting her hair straightened for special events of holidays, I felt the pressure ease. I needed a black woman to give me permission to "do something" to her hair. I have since done the following. I've taken her to JC Penny and had it straightened. And I had braids put in it. Both for the low. low cost of about $60. The braids lasted two weeks and were cute, and fun and so, so easy. The straight hair last for a little under a week and Noah bawled when it came time to wash it. It's an interesting thing this hair thing.