Archive for the ‘Aging’ Category
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I know I’ve been a bit tardy with my posts but in my defense… I do have a lot of stories to tell you but they just sometimes come to me at the worst times when I’m not able to write any of it down. For me to get something out I have to drop everything and just focus on writing or else you’re just going to get crap – And you know that would be a big step down from the literary masterpieces you’ve grown accustomed to. You’re welcome but no need to thank me it’s the least I can do.
You know that in my posts I’m either pissed-off or funny – But – I’m trying to mellow out because I’m getting older and somehow I never remember the funny stuff after they’ve happened. So in honor of my birthday I’ve decided that moving forward I’m going to work on striking a balance. So, as a part of the process I need to first confess a few things.
1. Ok… Let’s start off with what you know is one of my biggest fears, which is to be seen in faded underwear. I’m happy to confess though that I’m over it. Now, I worry about being taken to the ER in my spanx. Shhh… Sometimes it’s full-body spanx. It will be a couple hundred dollars down the tube if they have to cut it off of me. My mom is to blame for all this nutty behavior. One day I was stripping in front of my mom… SIDE NOTE: Get your damn mind out the gutter cause this ain’t no freak shit.
Back to what I was saying… So I’m taking my clothes off and she shouts out “Oh my God! How much clothes do you have on? Try nuh tek-een dung de road. Translation: I hope you don’t faint/pass-out when you get to where you’re going.” Now I can’t stop worrying. SIDE NOTE: I no longer watch the ER Trauma shows. Now I want everything that happens to me to be a surprise.
2. I think I’m ready to try my hand at being a lawyer or maybe being a cop. I’ve been binge-watching Law & Order all year. Actually this is not really a confession – Just wanted you to know about the new skills that I’ve acquired. I can spot a perp anywhere.
3. Ok… I’m no longer day-dreaming about quitting my job and cutting coupons so I can appear of TLC’s “Extreme Couponing”. I now realize that I need my job – BUT – I want my own reality show. Who wants to get paid to be my friend on it?
4. I’m way past my annual check-up. Because of my job, I’m having difficulty finding a gynecologist who does not know my name, recognize me or both. So now I’m back to wanting to quit my job. Some background… I went through a lot to trouble seeking out a doc that I’ve never been to before for my last check-up. So, I get there and I’m in plain clothes. SIDE NOTE: OMG! I tell you I could be a cop… Plain clothes (Not exactly what plain clothes means for me though).
Anyway… I walk into the lobby and immediately think, “Shit! I know all the staff here. Not good.” So I do all the preliminaries – At one point I thought that my blood pressure reading would be off the charts because I’m going a little nut-so hoping that the doc doesn’t walk out, see me, and start a conversation as if they know me. I would have passed out for real – And I wasn’t even wearing any spanx. I know… Totally nut-so.
That didn’t happen and I wait to go into the exam room. So it’s now my turn. The doc introduces himself to me and we exchange some pleasantries then the doc directs me to a room where I can strip… SIDE NOTE: Man! This is the second time I’m talking about stripping in one post. That could be good (suki suki) or bad (still suki suki…?) Back to the story… So I strip and put on a gown. SIDE NOTE: Yes, I think seriously now I want to quit my job because I need to spend some time coming up with a design to replace those gowns. Maybe crotch-less pants or… I don’t know but… If you’ve ever been in one (patient gown) you know what I mean.
So, I get back in the exam room and get up on the bed the doc starts asking me questions about myself, family history etc. At this time I’m still just sitting on the exam bed. Then the doc says to me, “Lie back and put your legs up. SIDE NOTE: The doc is about to go take a look at the best view in the world.
Still talking to me, I guess in an effort to make me comfortable. So… Pause… Exam for a minute or two then, out of the blue says; “Oh, so you’re Salma Crump!” I was like, “F ME DEN!” To myself, to myself, I said it to myself! Translation: “F ME! Nothing else, that’s it. The word “den” is just our way of vocalizing an exclamation point.
After that it was like my knees had a mind of their own because they were closing like a vice grip. I swear, I was told to relax about ten times after that. There was more talk after that but I would be lying if I told you what it was about. I couldn’t process anything else other than the Queen Victoria Expose which was unfolding right in front of me. And that is; ladies and gentlemen why I’m way past due with my check-up. You see, I just prefer when my doc gets to know Queen Victoria before they get to know Salma Crump. Please… Don’t judge me.
5. When your kids ask for toys; don’t make any assumptions, just check the toys out before you say yes. So, leading up to Christmas Kuba has been asking for the Animaniacs toys. He’s been into this cartoon lately. He would say to me (at least 5 times a day): “Mom, I want the Animaniacs plush toys for Christmas – Yakko Warner, Wakko Warner and the Warner sister Dot.” Yes, my kid is very specific. As it got closer to Christmas I decide to go check out the toys online.
I go to Amazon first. My search returns only one of them. I try all sorts of different searches but still the only one and it was about $45. I’m thinking to myself, “What the hell is wrong with this seller”. Anyway I go to ebay now. I get a few results but not as many as I think and I notice that the prices are along the same lines and some even more than 45 bucks. Then it occurs to me that I haven’t seen a description which says “new” yet. Folks, the toys are collectible items. The three stuffed toys are about to cost us about 150 bucks. What the hell did I get myself into! And it’s just like my kid to want vintage toys. It’s not that we’re opposed to spending this amount – But – on stuffed toys? Aren’t these supposed to sell for like 5 bucks? Now that is a bill I would support. So, the moral of the story is; check out the toys before you say yes. Your pocketbook will thank you. We’re suckers though… We bought the toys. SIDE NOTE: Even PayPal sent me an email after the purchase saying: ‘Come on man… Really!”
6. I’m still eating things (albeit less of it) which had a face prior to hitting my plate.
7. Ok… Never wear black pants or black underwear on planes. Actually stay away from black while traveling. For the second time in my life I bared my ass while traveling. This time it happened after I got off the plane. I take that back. I’m really not sure when it happened. All I know is that Kuba and I had just got off the plane after a long day of travel, numerous lines, escalators, and thousands of people – Only the have my sister greet me in arrivals, give me a hug then say… “Turn around, yuh nuh wan hole in yuh batum?” Translation: “Turn around… You know there’s a hole in your bottom?”
SIDE NOTE: Guys, think about that for a second. This is what we call a double entendre, which, in literary terms means that what she’s just asked me could be interpreted in two ways; especially one having a meaning that is indelicate. And I don’t know about you but I consider all the holes on my body to be very delicate and any reference to them should be done with all sensitivity.
So what do I do? I reach for my ass. Long story short… It had turned into a city with a drug problem.
Imagine the horror. The first thought was Kuba. My only son, who came forth from my loins the one who had traveled with me ALL DAY! By the way, does loin mean vagina or womb? SIDE NOTE: I call Charlton to ask him. He’s like my ghost busters. You know… Who you’re gonna call…
Me: What is loins? Is it my vagina or my womb?
Charlton: Loins… What is this about?
Me: I’m trying to figure out where Kuba came from
Charlton: (silence)
Me: You there?
Charlton: Really?
Me: You know when folks say he came forth from my loins. What do they mean?
Charlton: It’s mine. He came from me
Me: How do you know?
Charlton: That’s what it means. My seed
Me: (silence) – I’m thinking that whatever I say could potentially give this convo new meaning
Me: I thought he came from my loins? So it is my bowels then?
Charlton: Yes
Me: Yes… He came from my bowels? Why does it have to be my bowels?
Charlton: He came from your gut right?
Me: Well… I guess
Charlton: Ok then
Me: So because he came from my gut that means he came from my bowels?
Charlton: I’m pretty sure it’s that but I’ll go research it
Me: I’ll go research too
SIDE NOTE: It’s on like Donkey Kong!
Anyway… Where was I again? Ok, right here… So my ass is ripped. Not “ripped” like “ripped” – I am working on that though – But – “ripped” like the seam broke and it’s “crack city” baby. One sec, back to loins for a minute … If Charlton is right –although I’m still researching, and Kuba came from his loins then I guess my dad’s own was a bit watery. Because if it wasn’t then maybe I would have more (literally… more) of an ass that is “ripped like ripped”. Sorry mom. But you were right when you said that we stood in the “bubby line” too long. Translation: “breast line”.
SIDE NOTE: I know; I have a serious problem with staying on topic. I’m working on it.
So my one and only son who came forth from my loins (yes… whatever… my research is not complete), the one who had traveled with me ALL DAY said not a word! Guys, we literally went up escalators where there were folks behind me whose head was in my direct fart line. And it was “Silent Saturday”… They wouldn’t have seen it coming at all.
SIDE NOTE: My apologies Princess. Everyone, I’m friends with a real Princess and she frowns when I talk about farts. She says it’s not becoming. So I’ve promised her that I will no longer talk about it here. So, from to the ones who are turning up your noses right now but you know you’re a closet fart lover. Here’s one for old times’ sake…
8. I think most people get farts all wrong. Too often they’re misinterpreted. I think they’re just a non-verbal way for you to say; “hey, you’re cool, I like you” or in the case of a stranger a nice “hello there”. I’m about to share something very special with you. Cause you’re my homie. It’s a day-of-the-week calendar that I’m considering printing and sharing with all my friends, which includes you. I know… No need to thank me.
Ok… Here goes the Fartdar.
Monster Mondays: Not what you’re thinking. It’s all noise and no real action
Time Bomb Tuesdays: These just escape like at all the wrong damn times. You let someone in your car; you’re in a full dressing room at Khols with your son the fart police.
Wicked Wednesdays: Run for your life
To Be Named Thursdays: Seriously… These could fit any profile
Funky Fridays: How it affects the senses is anyone’s guess
Like I mentioned Saturday’s are “Silent”: …………………………….. Deadly!
Savor the Sundays: Just let it out man. It’s just a gentle breeze. When it happens your… Hmmm squeeze…
SIDE NOTE: Feeling a bit sad now. Think I just lost a friend.
9. Ok, I’m no longer going to deny it. I naturally walk like I’m about to kick someone’s ass. However, I desperately want to learn how to walk sexy. There is no mood-killer worse than walking towards your man doing your sexiest stride and he asks you; “What did I do now? What are you upset about?” Little does he know that it’s because I’m concentrating so hard on walking and wining that my face is all scrunched-up and added to that my arms out at the sides, that I look mad.
10. The one checkup that I was looking forward to most after giving birth was… Ok, wait a second. This is just between us. Ok… What I was looking forward to most was my six week postpartum check-up where my doctor said…
“You’re free to resume sexual activity now.”
Thank you Jesus! I can take off the “Gone on Vacation”, “Extended Leave”, “Laid Off” sign off my vagina. I tell you… It couldn’t have happened soon enough. Any day I would have started to hump Charlton’s leg like a dog. I think I started humming something from Marvin Gaye right in the doctor’s office.
It has become one of Charlton’s “remember when…” moments. To this day when Queen Victoria “acts” dead he says… “Remember when…”
11. Sometimes I forget how old I am. Someone asked me the other day how old I was going to be on my birthday and I was… “Ahhh… 2014 minus 1977 – Seven from four… You can’t – Go over to the one and borrow one…
I eventually did the all the calculations in my head. Took me only a few minutes. Then I said 37.
Happy birthday me! Was actually a few days ago… I’m working on my timing.
I think it’s still cool to say Happy New Year. Happy New Year to you!
- In: Aging | death | feeling | Say What! | Thinking OUT LOUD | Uncategorized | Underwear
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I know it’s been a while and everyone has been asking what’s going on with the blog so since we already know each other I’ll skip the formalities.
So… What does it say about a person who still has underwear from 1996. Still in good condition though. This means that I would be kinda ok with the ER situation I spoke about before – You know – Where they cut your clothes off of you. The only thing though is; the panties are kinda sorta… Ahhh… Above my belly button… Annnd… Covers my entire ass… I mean… ENTIRE A-S-S!
Anyway… The hot doc cutting my clothes off – Sees my panties… I don’t want the first thing that comes to their mind to be “What a *Bingo-Bag!” (Translation: Grandma Panties… I think). I mean… Can you imagine?
Plus Charlton loves cheeks… Yes, those ones too. (LOL)
In my defense though, I had just started working back then and could afford to buy my own Vickies (Victoria Secret) – And those were totally the “it” panties then – You know what I’m talking about. So Don’t Even Pretend…
As a matter of fact, I still sometimes wear some of them. They’re still a part of my tier system. Yes; I totally have a tier system. Tier one is for new ones. Tier two is for anything going on 8 months or so to a year but still in pristine condition. And tier three is for the older stuff like my period, non date-night and it’s-so-not-happening-tonight-panties. There’s one rule I have about tier three though – And that is not to leave the house in them. I would just die, if God forbid I got in a traffic accident or something and a police officer or EMT saw me in one of them. I would just die. Mind you if it’s a tier one I’m going to be upset if they cut it off – And I have already discussed this with Charlton and there are certain instances in which he would be ok with another person taking off my panties and this is one of them. Actually, I think he would want it to be a tier one too :). I wonder if this is something you can put in a will. Hmmm… Oh wait, I can’t, because I’ll be dead before the read it. Hmmm…
1, 2, 3… Let me count the ways one man can *rample-up wan bed aff a wan ly-dung. (Translation: mess-up a bed by just lying on it once). I can lie on the bed and just get up and run my hands over the top to smooth it out and you can never tell I was in it. With Charlton… Noooo – The comforter will be hanging off to one side, a pillowcase may be half way off the pillow, he wants like 4 pillows under his head at once. It’s awful. I want to ban him from the bed sometimes but… Think about it… Can’t be so cruel to myself
Ok… I have a confession to make…
Ten years ago while we were in New York I gave Charlton cabbage sautéed in pork fat – He’s a vegetarian. He ate it all and thought it was sooooo good… Like the best cabbage he’s ever had – And I never told him the truth.
Whew! There. I got it out. I feel better now. That shit has been weighing me down for some strange reason lately. I’ll tell him though; eventually. This will be one of my “old-and-grey” conversations
I swear, it wasn’t intentional. It was my dad’s wife who cooked it. She’s from down South and she cooks like Paula Deen – With butter and butter. I took the food back to the apartment. It was meant for ME but he tasted it and ended up eating all of it. I saw him eating it but it wasn’t registering at the time that it was cooked with pork fat. By the time that dawned on me it was too late. I couldn’t stop him then – He was enjoying it too much. I told myself that I would tell him later that night but I guess I forgot and I’m only now remembering. You believe me right?
A conversation that begins with…
Charlton: I’m going to cut off my balls
Never ends well…
Me: (I’m speechless) – I give him my best “Say what!” look
SIDE NOTE: We’re in the kitchen so he comes to the sink where I’m standing and gives me the; “I just told you that I was going to cut my balls out please say something.”
Me: Why would you want to do that?
Charlton: I was listening to something on the news and they were talking about the life expectancy for men verses women. Long story short… I may just live a little longer without my balls.
Me: What about me?
Charlton: What do you mean – What about you? How is this about you?
Me: What about sex?
Charlton: I’m not talking about sex. When did this conversation turn to sex?
SIDE NOTE: Ladies and gentlemen and the few pets who read this blog… He’s kidding right?
Me: Any conversation with balls has to involve sex
Charlton (He’s giving me the evil-eye): Says who Spin Doctor?
SIDE NOTE: In case you’re wondering who’s Spin Doctor. It’s yours truly – Picked up a few other nicknames since my last post. Spin Doctor is one and the other is Hitler. By the way, when I’m called Hitler, I’m given a salute. I know… I couldn’t make this up if I wanted to.
Me: What am I spinning? No balls mean no sex. It will affect the men on the battle-field. You know that right?
Charlton: Huh? What men? Oh my! I’m just trying to make a point with you – And you’ve gone down a totally different road
SIDE NOTE: By this time we’re out of the kitchen and in bed. Not like that you perv. We’re just talking – But you can’t say that that’s not some totally awesome irony there.
Me: I’m, not going down a different road. I’m still right by the balls where you are
Charlton: *Me tap tark to you buddy – (Translation: I’m no longer talking to you)
Me: But you agree that this has a lot to do with sex right?
Charlton: (No response)
Me: That’s it?
Charlton: (Turns his back to me)
Me: Ok, that’s how it is?
Charlton: Yes. Stop talking now
To be continued… 🙂
Moving right along…
If your kid has no filter, don’t take them to the bathroom with you.
Kuba and I go to the movies. About a quarter of the way into the movie I begin to feel the urge… I want to pee. I didn’t want to get up because the cinema was packed and I did not want to lose our seats, plus didn’t want to leave Kuba there alone. Anyway, I sat through it. But everyone knows what happens when you hold it for an extended period. Yep. That… The gentle breeze. LOL
I knew there was going to be a rush to the bathrooms after the movie so I waited for that to pass before going in. When we got in there it was empty. I took Kuba with me.
SIDE NOTE: Is Kuba to old now (he’s 10) for me to take into the ladies room with me?
Anyway I’m in the stall doing my business and it’s one of those flows where you’re thinking; “This is Guinness World Records material”. Or is that just me – Am I the only one who thinks like that? By the way, sorry for the visual (whatever you’re getting) that I just gave you.
Anyway, I’m praying to God no one comes in. I know a fart is on the horizon and it’s one of those ones whose full potential should only be released in private. Or in my case, in the company of my kid who is right outside leaning against the door. As soon as I was done I heard the clicking of a stall door – There was an intruder but it was too late to stop the raging bull about to escape my body. Folks, believe me when I tell you that I was doing all I could to stop it – So much for all those kegel exercises. It was failing me big time. It started coming out in short bursts. And that’s where Kuba comes in. I swear to God he must have Superman hearing.
Kuba: Hey… What’s going on in there?
Me: I’m not answering him. Actually I can’t answer him. I can concentrate on nothing else but trying to keep the lid on this monster – And God help us all if I attempt to utter a word.
Kuba (He’s whispering now and speaking in slow motion for some reason): Moooom, arrre yooou ooook?
I’m trying to hold it in but I’m leaking fast like a used tire. Then it was out. LOUD! REALLY LOUD! I think my knees buckled.
I want to die. Just kill me now.
Kuba (laughing and speaking at the top of his voice): Oh My Gosh! Mom, are you ok?
Me (thinking): No one can identify a fart – But – If I speak, whoever is in here might recognize my voice. So I keep quiet and have evil thoughts of my kid – And pray to God no one else smells this – Dead Dog Alert! Damn! It was fierce! OMG! I’m gonna die from involuntarily ingesting my own fart.
Kuba: Mom, did you fart?
Me (evil woman tone – under my breath): Kuba!
Kuba (laughing): Ewww… Yuck! That’s disgusting!
Me (evil woman tone – under my breath): Kuba!
Then I hear what sounds like the beginning of laughter in another stall – Like the person is trying not to laugh but can’t help themselves. Then I guess they couldn’t hold it in anymore – anywhere else I think they would have been rolling on the floor. Kuba joins in on the laughter. Then he says…
Kuba: It’s not funny! It’s inappropriate
SIDE NOTE: I usually tell him this because he loves to laugh after he farts – thinks it the funniest thing. So what he’s saying now is from some scripting we’ve done.
This makes the lady in the other stall laugh even more
I’m beginning to stifle a laugh too but I still wish that my kid would just shut up.
I hear the sink running so I assume that the person is now washing their hands. Their phone rings…
Victim: You’re outside? *Bwoy me ha wan juak fuh ghe you see. Yuh guh ded wid laugh* – (Translation: Boy, I have a joke to share with you. You’re going to die laughing)
The person eventually leaves. Thank God! I’m finally able to make my exit but not before dousing the place with my Victoria Secret body mist.
I finally exit my safety net and the traitor (aka Kuba) comes up to me and says; “Mom, you made it.”
By the way, I would have died laughing too. I think farts are God’s gift of laughter to the world.
So… What else has been going on with us?
Charlton and I have come up with a secret handshake. We’re still trying to figure out in what scenarios we will use it though.
I was addicted the US Presidential elections. Actually I started tuning in since the Republican primaries but got really into it during the summer. Meaning all politics all the time – Every TV in the house – So I did not miss anything. Kuba would lay in my bed some nights and watch Hardball (Chris Matthews) with me. I’m sure he’s quite the pundit now.
I no longer dream of giving up my career and clipping coupons. I now want to be a medium! Looking for some people to practice on though. So if you’re interested hurry up because Charlton is considering an intervention. Says he’s worried about me. I don’t know what for.
News flash! Any day now I’m going to be thirty-six, which means that I’ll officially be off the calendar. Don’t stop. You read right. Keep reading.
Never walk into a pizza shop for the first time and the cashier has their back turned to you. Let someone else take your spot so you have some time to get used to their face. I recently walked into a pizza shop and the cashier’s back was turned to me – She was talking to one of the chefs. When she turned around to take my order I gripped the counter and said; “Oh my God!” The thing is I didn’t mean for her to hear it. Really… I’m not like that at all. I usually have my shit together. I get shocked like that I usually can scream and do all my facial expressions in my mind. But something happened that day – My brain did not have enough time to compute the shock. If it’s any consolation I felt really bad that she heard. But damn! The man who continues to sell her bleaching cream should be jailed and her eyelash lady should be doing some significant community service.
This is the last year that I will hide in my house from the Jehovah’s Witness people. I mean it! This is it! Come 2014 it is not happening! I will send Kuba out to them instead – LOL. Two of them came by our house and this is how it went down…
I see them coming into my yard so I run to my bedroom to hide. Kuba’s in another room watching TV – It’s too late for me to call him now – I can’t shout, they’re going to hear me and know someone’s home. I hear a knock on the door…
JW: *Inside! Inside! (Translation: It’s a Caribbean thing. I think it means “hello, anyone inside” all wrapped up in one. I never really got it but whatever)
Me: I’m praying Kuba does not betray me
JW: (Knocks on the door again)
SIDE NOTE: I’m crouching down looking out the window (I can see the front of the yard). I’m thinking I’m safe – Kuba can’t hear the knocking. He’s busy watching TV. Unbeknownst to me Kuba was already headed for the door. I hear the door open…
JW: Hi, is your mommy home?
Me (thinking): Just say no. Please Kuba. Do this one for mom
Kuba: My name is Kuba. Nice to meet you
SIDE NOTE: Ahhh… He gets it right on cue. Scripting working well. So proud.
JW: Nice to meet you too. Is your mommy inside?
Kuba: There
SIDE NOTE: I’m sure he’s pointing in the direction of my room.
JW: Can you go and call your mommy for us please?
SIDE NOTE: I’m thinking; “Evil thoughts go away. I love my son. I love my son.”
If he was at least twenty I believe I would have punched him in the face when he opened my door.
Kuba: Mom, come here please
Me (whispering): Not now Kuba
Kuba: Come. Here. Please
SIDE NOTE: Obviously what I’m saying does not please him so he’s sounding urgent.
Me (whispering): Go and close the door
SIDE NOTE: I know, it’s awful and I feel so bad about it – But I didn’t want to send him out there to… What is it called these days? LIE! To my horror Kuba starts pulling me and…
Kuba (pulling me out the room): Moooom. Cooome. Heeere. Pleeease
I’m pulling away from him now. Why is my kid doing this to me!
SIDE NOTE: You would think they would just leave and let me wallow in my shame. By now they must know I’m in the house. My son has obviously made that known with is insistence.
Kuba stops pulling me and walks out the room and I whisper to him; “Not now honey.” I swear to you – That is all I said. Kuba goes out and says to the folks, very politely if that’s possible…
Kuba: Go away
I stare at the bedroom floor looking for the hole for me to jump into hell.
What lesson have I taught my son?
DISCLAIMER: Evil thoughts were real but no one was hurt though. Love my kid too much 🙂
P.S. I guess things may look bad if I don’t say Happy New Year so… Happy New Year! From my heart of course 🙂
Making 35 & Faded Underwear
Posted on: January 4, 2012
- In: Advocacy | Aging | Dos & Don'ts | feeling | Nuts & Bolts | Special Needs | Special Needs Education | Thinking OUT LOUD | Underwear
- 7 Comments
So, I’m technically ten, nine, eight, seven, no, six, ok five days away from my birthday. SIDE NOTE: Took me some time to get going on this post… And you will find out to end it as well. LOL
I’ll be 35 any day now. Can you imagine that? I keep asking my mom and Charlton about the surprise party they’re throwing for me but haven’t been getting any clues at all. It’s beginning to look like they won’t be doing a damn thing. Mom just told me that 35 isn’t a milestone. My mom… Said that… To me. That hurt deep. So I’m sorry folks; especially to those who got an early invite. Next year… DEFINITELY!
I’m looking forward to 35 though. It’s the new 25, or so the 35 year olds say :).
Thirty-four was a good year, mostly because I survived it with my sanity in tack and didn’t run around my neighborhood or my office naked. I swear… I’ve had dreams.
The year started out with us just beginning to settle into a new program in a new school. Then at the end of summer we had to make some tough choices. I think most of you know how that ended. I felt like I crashed and burned. And what made it worse is that at one point it felt like Kuba was burning too and I couldn’t do anything about it. You know me (as Salma) you knew about this program. If you know me as “The Salma Crump” perhaps there’s still a chance that you know about this program. LOL- Couldn’t help it; just had to get that in there. I was into it BIG-O TIME-O. Like all the other parents were as well.
Anyway; along the way I began to lose my passion when the program began changing direction. Little things turned into big things. At one point (initially) I felt like I couldn’t talk openly about some of the fears I was beginning to have about this program. I know… One minute I couldn’t stop talking about it and the next… So outside of the other parents (at school) and my mom – I just glossed over school when anyone asked. SIDE NOTE: I guess that’s the new word (glossed-over) for “lie” now.
Unfortunately though, we had to move on with what we felt (and still feel) was right for Kuba at the time. I still do hope though that eventually the program develops into what was originally planned or even better. Better is good… We like better 🙂
Then we launched ABILITY; a Special Education lobby group. This was a group that started on BBM after a very intense discussion between 3 moms. Truth be told I had never met one of the moms and was just introduced to her on BBM before the discussion. Isn’t it amazing the things you can get accomplished once there’s a common goal? I think we’ve managed to do that but we still have a lot more to do – The work never really ends when you think about it. You’re an advocate… You’re an advocate… You’re an advocate. It never stops. SIDE NOTE: I think I would say that this was one of the highlights of the year. I’ve met so many other parents and the support we’ve received have been overwhelming.
My apologies… Think I rambled on there for a minute.
So on to the juicy stuff now. You can stop reading now if you’re NOT nosy 🙂
I haven’t made any resolutions except one unofficial one, and it’s not to bring my blackberry into bed. But if Charlton is asleep it doesn’t count that why it’s unofficial. 😉
So instead of resolutions there are just certain dos and don’ts that I try to live by.
Here goes…
1. If Dr. Oz is going to do a show on “Getting Rid of Belly Fat” and they’ve asked members of the audience to wear a sports bra and gym-pants. Don’t go! DON’T DO IT! I tell you… You’re going to regret it if you do.
2. Never trespass on private property – Because you’ve always wondered; “What’s back there?” And today you finally decide to go check it out – So you drive all the way in and then you stop, make a move to get out the car – Then the other adult in the car says; “I thought you were just going to drive up and look-and-leave?” And then you may say; “I watch too much HGTV for that.” Then they say; “I’m not coming. There may be security cameras here and I’m not going to be on it.” Then you say; “What you talkin bout Willis?” And then you get out the car and leave the engine running, hoping that the other adult just may really stay there in the event you have to make a run for it. But in reality only to be followed by the adult and a child who may be with you. Then you get a chance to fully take in the view which is to-die-for – Then it hits you… There’s only one way in and the same way out… Well; unless you want to go over the balcony. And then you may say out loud; “This balcony isn’t up to code. It’s hitting me mid-thigh.” And the one other adult passenger says; “How do you know that?” Then you may have to say; “I do learn stuff while watching HGTV you know.” Ok… I take this one back. Do it! Do it! Totally do it! This view is insane! I mean, so I heard 🙂
3. It’s ok work your way up the ladder. Have a good career ahead of you, nice office but still dream about quitting your job and clipping coupons and appearing on the TLC’s Extreme Couponing. It looks like so much fun on TV. If it ain’t free it’s not for me baby. LOL
4. Stop obsessing about wearing “matching underwear”. If something happens to you and they have to cut your clothes off and your bra is black but your underwear is more close to grey than faded. But you swear you’ve only worn it a few times and it must be the material that cannot take the rigors of the washing machine – And you make a mental note to yourself: Hand-wash all undergarments. But you’ll stop stressing because obviously the person cutting your clothes off is trying to save your life. You make another mental note to yourself: Stop watching the ER Trauma shows.
5. Don’t refer to your vagina as anything else but vagina. No… “Pam” isn’t ok and neither is “Lady-part”. And I’m not translating “Pam” for anybody because it’s totally ridiculous. How-Ev-Ver… Referring to a friend of the vagina as King Kong… Totally ok 😉
6. Find a way to get over your Jewish-guilt… Your son likes rum-and-raisin ice-cream. Plus you’re not even Jewish.
7. If you have kids and you’re considering the Ramen Noodle family diet plan so you can afford the leopard print dress, pumps and clutch combo … Wait! I’m thinking here. Ok… Are you kidding me! Don’t do it! How could you even think… Errr… What’s wrong with you! How-Ev-Ver… If you’rrrreee on your owwwwnnn… 🙂
8. In the event you bump into your man’s ex – And I mean literally bump into. It’s ok to pretend you don’t know her. Even though you’ve looked her up on Facebook and you know what she does for a living and what she’s had for breakfast that morning. And… OMG…! That pic…! I’ve seen better mug-shots.
9. While I’m on the topic of exes… DO NOT EVER… EVER, EVER, EVER, EVER… Call the ex – Unless you’ve had some stupid-juice – In which case that explains everything.
SIDE NOTE: For the nosy inquisitive ones who didn’t stop reading when I said to stop. Me nah sen yuh pan Facebook fuh do nun investigation. (Translation: Leave people business alone). I’m just saying… I don’t think you should do this.
10. And while I’m on the topic of Facebook; don’t pass someone on the street – Look them in the eye – Don’t say hello even after they give you a “Save APUA Kilowatt fuh bang darg” smile – Then go home and send them a Facebook friend request. Outta ardar! (Translation: Really and truly there’s none… But “Out of order” comes close). SIDE NOTE: I think all the Facebookers in the Caribbean should get together and petition FB for another update. This would be a button next to the “Accept Friend Request” button only this button would say “Kip Dat!”. (Translation: Can’t translate this one either but “Not Interested” comes close). Wouldn’t it be cool if it had audio too?
11. Find a way to eat fewer things that previously had a face.
And finally…
12. Never stop advocating for better education for your child/ren. Or for anything you’re passionate about – With the exception of stealing women’s underwear. That’s still a crime.
Seriously though… My advocacy platform is Special Needs Education so I can tell you that you’ll come across many folks who will give you too many reasons of why they can’t help your child – And you’ll come across many people who are nice (I need a word other than nice) and understanding but still can’t help. I know that the system in which they work has severe limitations that they are also frustrated by. You see, the folks on the front-line are often the ones that have to tell parents that they cannot provide the services or care that your child needs. And honestly, I don’t think many of them are happy with that role or the implications for the child.
I also know that there are many parents who are uncomfortable with being assertive, afraid of confrontation (especially when people are being nice) – You say you’re shy or you feel afraid to stand up for your child because you assume others know more than you do. But I’m here to tell you that even if it goes against every bone in your body you have to stand-up for your child. You will have to insist – Which I’m not saying is easy, but you will have to do it. And I hope that the educators, administrators or anyone for that matter, know, that by speaking up for your child, you are not in any way attacking them personally and that it should not create a negative relationship between them and your child (or even you). I’m not trying to make excuses for anyone or saying that parents should be rude or unkind – But when parents come to talk it’s with good intentions with a healthy dose of frustration. At the end of the day, as parents there’s only one position we can take in this situation. And that is to stand-up for our kid’s rights.
And everybody say… AMEN!
I wish you guys all the best for the New Year; whatever “best” means to you.
SIDE NOTE: Dear Lord I hope it doesn’t mean killing, robbing or stealing.
I know I don’t usually have photos but I thought this post warranted one. This should sum it up well.
momtuition 