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Jamaica Tallawahs Captain, Chris Gayle addresses members of the media at a press conference at the Sir Vivian Richards Cricket Grounds (CPLT20.com)

Jamaica Tallawahs Captain, Chris Gayle addresses members of the media at a press conference at the Sir Vivian Richards Cricket Grounds (CPLT20.com)

I don’t know about you but I think Chris Gayle’s recent comments in response to a question from a reporter at a press conference were totally sexist and disrespectful – And the reporter laughing is at best irrelevant and at worst heartbreaking.

In case you missed it here’s a clip of the comments (within the article)

For those who think she wasn’t offended… So what if she wasn’t? If my boss refers to a female colleague as a bitch and she’s ok with it – HELL NO it doesn’t make it right and he better think twice before he refers to me as one. I for one see that laughter though, as nervousness/I don’t know how to respond/Should I respond?/What are people going to think?/It’s Chris Gayle! I can’t challenge him. Can I?/I’m going to be labeled a feminazi. Or it will be said that I have an agenda/It’s Chris Gayle! The cricket star! So shocked and unconsciously mute now – What comes out instead? Nervous laughter… It’s a coping mechanism. Raise your hand if you’ve never witnessed it or more likely experienced it yourself.

So, yes, Chris needs to apologize – And if enough of us get together, we can make it easy for him to do so or very difficult for him not to. We have unlimited access to sports (and other) journalists online and they are always looking for stories. Well… We need to give them one. At the end of the day, the goal as I see it, is not so much to get Chris to apologize. Yes, we want that to happen and for him to recognize that what he said is unacceptable but I see it more as us preventing others from making similar utterances and understanding that what he said was totally inappropriate. You must think twice before you say stupid shit. We know… Speech is free – But – Consequences will cost you.

I haven’t seen anything about Chris Gayle’s comments on my FB timeline so I will be putting this comment on my timeline. I will also be posting this (what I’ve written here) on my blog. Is there a Twitter hashtag? I know; there are some out there who think hashtag activism is a waste of time and does nothing but I disagree with that notion. At its core it’s an awareness tool which is a big part of activism. So it’s not going to solve the problem on its own but it can make the unknown mainstream and put pressure on people to act.

Don’t even get me started on the CPL statement with their… “Chris’ comments were mere pre-match hijinks and made with no malice intended…” Seriously! Pre-match hijinks! We’re talking about a grown man here, right? And malice…! I really wonder how many people heard that and thought he meant any malice. We thought he meant something more sinister… Just creepy! He was disrespectful, plain and simple. I’m not sure about any of you but I’m deeply troubled that they continue to support him – And – their ill-advised statements make them just as bad.

Here’s an article referring to the CPL statement in The Daily Observer.

This event has many sponsors, who have been decidedly quiet. All of us need to start calling/emailing these establishments/people and let them know that you are horrified that they can continue to support the person who made such sexist comments. I would want to believe those comments he made are in direct conflict with their company’s culture of respect for all individuals – And if it is, they should say so and demand he apologizes and for CPL to retract their absurd “Mad Men era” statement and treat this matter with the seriousness and urgency it requires.

 

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!

Hey Mister… Shut up!

I think I’ve had it up to here – Folks; I’m up on a ladder with my hands above my head so I’m right up to my limit – With the rude comments from strangers, friends (although I’m reconsidering this label) or family (unfortunately, I’m stuck with this one). So, please indulge me as I go through a little DIY therapy session and put some things in perspective.

Chief Tormentor

“Wait! Is he retarded or something?” Dear God please help me! I want to drop-kick this man. I’ve watched enough Jet Li movies; I could so do it – BUT – I didn’t. Ladies and gentlemen, I actually responded and said; “He’s autistic.” Somewhere between my mind and my mouth I dropped “you idiot”. I was so pissed!

Parent Expert

For the mom who comes up to me after he has had a meltdown… “You mustn’t let him embarrass you like that in public. You need to put your hand in his bottom.” She waits. I say nothing. She gives me the evil-eye. I continue ignoring her. She looks (disgust) at my son and shakes her head. I’m willing myself not to speak – So afraid of what may come out of my mouth.

Friends, Family and then some

Yes, we do discipline him. However, contrary to what you believe we can’t beat it out of him nor will we attempt to for your sake.

Ms. Tact Less

Did you do something to cause it? WHAT! I just had to walk away from that one.  Whatever made you think you can ask me that? Arrrggghhh!

Showoff

Kuba was babbling up until about four (4) years old. So his speech at times is still not that clear. “He’s too big to be speaking like that.” My response: “No shit Sherlock!” Like really! Do you think that I (a) Don’t already know this, (b) Doing everything that we can to improve it and (c) He wants to improve just as bad. Telling me that you have a 5 year old grandson who speaks VERY WELL because his mom makes sure of it is not advice. It’s just you showing off so… SHUT! UP!

Dr. Know It All

I was watching this program on TV and they were talking about how this gluten-free diet/ABA therapy/freak juice /jumping out of a plane can cure autism. Look… The one thing that I know for sure is that to date there is no cure. Yes, there are therapies that help, but no one thing helps all autistic people.  Take home message; not because you watch it on TV or read it in a book that it’s the gospel.

The Food Police

My kid is a picky eater, plus added to that he has a few food allergies which can sometimes make dining out a challenge. “I don’t know how you put up with how he eats. If he lived with me he would have to eat what I give him.” My response: “You should be happy then.” Tell me again why anyone would want to take this personal.

You know what? Very early I realized that I was going to have to develop some THICK skin and eventually I began to let things just roll off my back – And actually began to look forward to questions from folks because it gave me an opportunity to tell another person about autism and hopefully make them more aware and understanding. But more and more it’s becoming hard for me to keep a civil tongue in my head, especially when others can’t or won’t.

Folks, this is our tender spot here – And you’re making it so hard for us when you come at us this way.

Ahhh… Yes. That high road… Sometimes filled with jerks and meddlers who think they have a right to talk to me as the wish and ask me any intrusive question that pops into their mind. As much as possible I try not to listen to the voice in my head. Imagine that! Not listening to the voice in my head – Thought we were to supposed to listen that one? But for now, with me, it won’t be pretty if that voice takes the lead so I swallow what a part of me so want to give right back to them because I’m going to be the one who regrets it, because I’m the one that knows better. And at the end of the day, I’ve done nothing to inform an uneducated mind. Plus hopefully I’m teaching my son a lesson about advocating for himself.

Again, let me repeat… It’s not EASY for me to do this. When you sometimes want to give someone the “one-finger salute” because words fail you, and it is still illegal to drop-kick someone in a supermarket. Totally kidding – But it means that they have hit a nerve. However for the times that I’ve stopped and talked to someone about autism, nine times out of ten, I think they walk away feeling pretty foolish for the way they spoke to me and there’s been times that some folks have even apologized. And that right there, I can’t tell you how much it means to me.

So the next time you’re in the supermarket and you see a mom with a kid who’s having a meltdown… If you’re 12, go ahead and stare, I’m cool with that. If you’re 41; don’t come over and insist that I spank him, tell me that I’m a bad parent and start talking to the other folks in the aisle about how you would never tolerate that behavior or shout “Is he retarded!” Because when you do that; quiet inside-voice… Quite – He can hear you – And, most days, I couldn’t care less but really and truly, I would rather not expose him to this and have him feel uncomfortable.

You can though, feel free to give me the “I’ve been there smile”, ask if you can help or you can just ignore us. I’m cool with that.

So; are we all on the same page? Awesome! Thanks for listening.

It has been a while I know… I did I promise at some point that I was going to post every week. But if I did everything I said I was going to do then what would I do when it came time to make New Year’s resolutions? Have you ever thought of that? So now, one of my goals for next year is to post at least once per week.

So… What has happened since the last time?

I realized that Momtuition has a lot more readers than I thought :). Met one recently while at the bank. SIDE NOTE: I wonder what perks come with having a bank employee as a fan of your blog? All I need is to be able to jump the line especially when they are long and out of 6 Tellers 4 have signs up saying “CLOSED”.

So it’s my turn… I go to the teller… Looks like she’s new. Don’t remember seeing her before. Yes; I can be nosy observant too.

Anyway, I go up to the window and slide my slip under the glass. She looks up and says…

Teller: So you’re Salma Crump

Slight pause (only a few long seconds)… Nothing. Now this should be against the law. When you say something like that – “So you’re…” It should be law that you have to follow it up with something… Anything.

 Me (smiling): Yes. SIDE NOTE: I should have corrected her right? Let her know I’m “The Salma Crump”. Get it right! LOL 🙂

Me: Where do you know me from?

SIDE NOTE: I’m almost 100percent sure of what she’s going to say then she says…

Teller: I read your blog

The smile on my face is big enough for ten thousand tourists! 🙂 (You see)

Me: Really? Oh nice! Thanks. Where did you hear about it?

Teller: I think it was on Facebook. Someone posted the link.

SIDE NOTE: Turns out it’s a fellow blogger over at Motives & Thoughts 

Me: What’s your name?

Teller: Yada, Yada, Yada…

SIDE NOTE: Mine yah bizniz! (Translation: Mind your own business). Ok… My apologies; I shouldn’t have told you to mind your own business. After all it’s my business (I think… Is it the Teller’s business too?) and I’m choosing to tell you. And don’t you just hate that – When someone tells you… “I want to tell you something but I can’t use names.” Well keep it to your damn self then. Probably shouldn’t be telling me in the first place. Anyway, I’m still not going to tell you but aren’t you happy we got that out in the open? LOL

Back to the convo…

Me: I’ve never seen a comment with that name?

 Teller (smiling): I’ve never commented. I just go and read the posts.

 Me: Ok. You should comment though

 Teller (smiling… Ten thousand more tourists): No… I don’t like to be out there. I don’t even use my real name online.

 Me: Wow! Ok… You can comment under any name

Teller: I like how you write

Me: Thank you

At this point we can be backup power supply for APUA when they shed-a-load-of-shit on us. I got that wrong didn’t I? But you get the picture. There were smiles all around 🙂

Teller: I think you’re funny

Me: Is that good or bad?

Teller (laughing): That’s good

Me: Ok

Teller: I like to think of it as my escape (I think she said from the real world)

Me thinking… These are compliments, right

Me: Wait… You’re complimenting me right?

SIDE NOTE: I guess I actually said what I was thinking. For whatever reason my internal muzzle doesn’t always work.

Then she says…

Teller (smiling/laughing): It’s my dirty little secret

Me (thinking): FINALLY! She compliments my work! OMG, someone give this girl a bottle of my latest fragrance, a copy of my third autobiography, something with my face or name on it! Oh wait a minute… I don’t have any of those things do I…

Instead I said…

Me: Wow! That’s a compliment, right?

Teller: Of course!

Me: Your compliments are something else.

Meanwhile I’m skipping in my mind. I can do back-flips too but I’m saving that for when I win the lottery 🙂

So… To my number one fan (don’t be jealous guys – you have to admit that’s a deserving spot) thanks for your kind compliments. I look forward to seeing your comments… Your real self or the fake one 😉

Momtuition… Your dirty little secret.

So I’m here lying in my bed in painful state. Why…

Fell and busted my R@R$E… Prappa! (Translation: Fell down… Flat on my stomach)

Some background…

I’m in a hurry to leave the office. I was invited by a lecturer at the Teacher Training College to come and talk to her students about Speducation (remember, this is short for Special Needs Education). I have to tell you that that day I was wearing some “HOT” (had to check with Kuba, the animal expert in the house) leopard print shoes – My mom bought them for me.

Anyway I usually wear a pair of slippers into the office because I realized all my shoes were being ruined by driving in them – So I put them on when I get in the office. So I’m in a hurry to get out of the office to go do this presentation. I’ll tell you more about what I spoke about later.

And you know… I don’t want to forget my fabulous shoes. So instead of putting on my slippers and taking my heels in my hand like I usually do… What do I do? I rush out of the office in my heels. Again… Brand new heels – I swear these shoes are like sex on heels. Sorry, Charlton would not approve of that comment. These shoes are like a business meeting where everyone gets a raise. OMG! I swear this is not intentional. The words just keep coming out (LMAO). Ok… These shoes are like the feeling you would get if the gov’t removed income tax and the price of a big can of Hereford Corned Beef went back to $6. Went grocery shopping the other day and I swear I saw it on the shelf for more than ten bucks. BEEF… It’s what’s for dinner! LOL – Did I get that right? Is that what the commercial says?

You know it’s hard for me to stay on topic so please excuse me.

So, I’m rushing out of the office in my “you know what” and… I’m stepping… I’m walking… I’m waving, saying “hi, we need to talk. I’ll stop by your office when I get back.” The coast is clear now. I’m walking, I’m walking. I see a nurse parking her car, another man sitting in a truck waiting for someone and there’s a chef from the hospital café on the opposite side of me. I’m going down the steps…

My foot hits the first one I think; I don’t even remember. All I know is… I’m going down and I can’t stop myself. There’s no fricking thing to hold on to. And out of the 3 folks I told you about, no one was close enough to stop me. Or could it be that they watched me go down in shock? I think I’m screaming at this point; haven’t hit the ground yet – But the scream is coming out like a dignified fart. You know that fart where you’re invited to church and the usher at the door force you to sit in the front and you end up in a pew with the regulars? Then all of a sudden you want to fart. You’ve been trying to coax it out since in the car, while walking to the entrance… And noooo… It stays put. Then you’re sitting in a pew with folks who don’t miss a beat, the damn place is quiet and… Here comes the fart like a raging bull. So you’re trying to hold it in but you can’t stop it. It just keeps busting out your butt in bursts. So it’s going up your back, up your crotch. I tell you… Sometimes the force is so much it feels like it wants to lift you off your seat. You know what I’m talking about (LOL).

So I’m screaming and not a fricking sound. And, for the first few seconds all I’m thinking about is the damn shoes. I know, I feel so ashamed.

SPLAT! I’m flat on my stomach! Thank God for big voluptuous breasts. I didn’t break Adam’s rib.

The chef I told you about is by my side. OMG! I was right. She did watch me go down (in shock).

Chef: Oh my! Are you ok?

Me: I think so

(I think so my ass. I’m in pain… My leg is hurting me)

Chef: Let me help you up

Me: (I notice my shoes… Not good) My shoes!

Chef: Don’t worry about your shoes. It’s just a little bruise

Man in truck: Wait… Wha jus happen? (translation: What just happened) You ok Miss? Wait… The two of you related?

(He’s talking about me and the chef)

Chef: Tap mine people business

(Translation: Mind your own business)

Man in truck: Well me haffu ask because you fall dung de same way just the other day and now you jus happen fu yah when dis yah happen

(Translation: You had a similar fall recently and now you’re here witnessing this Oscar performance – LOL)

Meanwhile I’m thinking…

Man… The swan just took a dive and it wasn’t stellar. So I really can’t be laughing at this point. By the way I’m on my feet now and every muscle from my chest down hurts… Yes; every muscle. Did I mention that night would have been date-night? It just gets worse.

I’m hobbling to my car. Going to be late for this presentation – But I’m going to go even if it kills me.

I call Charlton on my way there…

Me: I just fell down

Charlton: What do you mean you just fell down? Where?

Me: At work. I was going to my car

Charlton: You ok?

Me: I don’t know. I think so. My leg hurts and I ruined my shoes. (I know… I’m sorry. The shoes are HOT)

Charlton: Where are you now?

Me: On my way to go do the presentation I told you about

And now comes the million dollar question…

Charlton: Are we still going to be able to go out tonight

SIDE NOTE: Remember I told you that night was a date-night – And a date-night is usually wrapped up with a frank discussion at a business meeting where all areas are touched so that everyone feels satisfied. WOW! I think I just outdid myself with that one 🙂

Anyway the call dropped so we never got to finish the conversation.

I did say I was going to tell you about the presentation I did; right?

I was asked to talk to the students on the topic of speducation from a parent’s perspective. Didn’t want to go and talk about all the problems and how difficult it has been – Because at the end of the day they’ll empathize but really can’t relate on any deep level. I figured… I’m going to focus on something that they can take back to the classroom, discuss with their principals, other colleagues and most importantly give some simple tips that they could use in the classroom now. And highlight some things that they may already be doing and not even be aware of. So I talked about making Accommodations and Modifications (and what they are) – Which are different but sometimes often confused or thought to be the same.

Accommodations offer alternative ways for students to acquire information or share what they have learned with the teacher. They do not lower the difficulty level nor expectations for the student’s achievement, although there may be changes in teaching materials used, testing materials, or even in the instructional environment. As a matter of fact educators often make accommodations for individual students informally as they teach, but children with special needs may require more formally documenting the need for specific accommodation through an IEP (Individual Education Plan). This is so that it remains consistent across the board and it’s not left up to someone’s discretion.

Sometimes you have educators and even other parents thinking that making accommodations gives an unfair advantage to the student who the accommodation is being made for. But that’s absolutely not the case.

Modifications however are more intensive changes to the difficulty level and/or the quantity of material to be learned. Modifications also may, in fact, change the way material is presented and the nature of testing. Modifications create a different standard for children whose disabilities require more intense adjustments. Modifications should also be included in the students IEP.

For more info on the subject, take a look at this interview of Dr. Crawford who is a member of the Professional Advisory Board at the National Center for Learning Disabilities.

So the presentation is over – Actually it was more of a discussion – And it went very well!

I call my mom…

Me: Mom I fell today

Mom: Did you break your heel? (Ahhh… A woman after my own heart)

Me: Not really but the front of one of them is ruined. They’re not the same

And the laughter begins… She can’t contain herself

Mom: Where did it happen?

Me: At work on the way to my car

Mom: Anybody see you?

Me: Mom! Those are not the questions you’re supposed to be asking me

Mom: But I’m just saying… (She can barely talk now from the laughing) were a lot of people around?

Me: You don’t think you should ask me how I’m doing.

Mom: How did you fall? On your bottom (She’s laughing for about ten people now)

Me: (At this point now laughing out loud too) –  I’m going down the step one minute and next minute me flat pan ma gut (Translation: Fell flat on my stomach)

And so it goes… We were laughing so hard as I recounted the story of my fall from grace in my leopard print shoes 🙂

Laughter… The best medicine!

So… I need to find my mom a “special friend”. Hey, she’s not that old. The parts still work and it’s been too loooong. SIDE NOTE: Whatever you’re thinking stop thinking it RIGHT NOW! This is my mom we’re talking about here. Only I should think that… Cough. Cough… I’m gagging. I take that back. Not even I should think that.

I keep telling her that I’m going to set her up on a blind date. To which she says “Absolutely not!” She thinks I’m kidding. I’m now contemplating setting her up with a profile on Match.com. Are there Antiguan men on Match? I’ve asked Charlton for help but first of all he wants to know why I’m telling him about this – Then who told me to mention Match.com to him! He says…

Charlton: You just went and ruin the entire thing now. What are you talking about with this online thing? That’s not how relationships work.

SIDE NOTE: So you know I perked up because “Main Man Charlton” I hoped was about to tell me how relationships work. But that didn’t happen.

Me: What’s wrong with meeting a guy online? It’s no different with what happened back-in-the-day when you would get a girl’s number from a friend and call and talk to her on the phone before meeting her.

SIDE NOTE: That shut him right up – I give him a few seconds to come to terms with the “been there, done that” in his head. In those few seconds I kept asking, “What’s the difference?” but wasn’t getting an answer.

Then he says…

Charlton: Sometimes you like act as if you live in some fairytale land

Me: What is fairytale about that? You have a man or not?

Charlton: Come again?

Me: Chups (whatever)

So back to the man hunt…

A friend was telling me the other day that it should be easy for me because I come into contact with a lot of men. SIDE NOTE: Yeah I know… The whole “come into contact with a lot of men” sound really Heidi Fleiss-ish but that’s not the case. When I’m in Vampire Land; yes but that’s the way of life there… It’s how God wants it to be.

I just can’t imagine though my mom dating a colleague. Well I can, that’s why it can’t happen. How awkward would that be? I would be sitting in a meeting with them wondering if he got to 1st, 2nd or God forbid… Ahhhh… 3rd base! OMG I’m gagging! (puke)

SAMPLE PROFILE for Match.com

Sex: Female

Age: Looking for a man that’s 50 and over. My age is none of your business

Ethnicity: Black – And you may as well stop here if you’re not into black chicks because you know… “Once you go black…”

She will be looking for:

  • A man with a good sense of humor
  • a good job or if you’re not working can afford to do so
  • a stomach flatter than mine
  • someone who loves kids
  • a happy mouth – If you don’t know what this is then you’re not it
  • someone who’s ok with watching CNN, HGTV, Food Network, Discovery… ALL DAY!

And then there would be a link for more

Anyone got any ideas on how I can make this date happen?

P.S. I’m trying to think of where my mom is going to hide my body when she slaughters me after reading/hearing about this post. Here are places you can tell the cops to search first:

  • My closet. I have a shoe fetish so there are enough boxes in there to store every single body part
  • my chester drawer. It’s big! I got so much stuff in it. I have a drawer for clothes I sleep in and I don’t sleep in any. Oh shit! That slipped.
  • my freezer. I could easily look like pork in a Ziploc bag

 P.P.S. I just found out that the correct thing to say is “chest of drawers” and not “chester drawers”. Got that? 100 Most Often Mispronounced Words and Phrases in English

P.P.P.S. This is the last, I swear.  I decided to talk to my sister about my plans. She older and married with kids so therefore knows the joys of having a “Special Friend” to torture, I mean love for the rest of your life. I told her I was going to blog about my “Special Friend” Search. I mean, after all, they search for stars on national TV so why can’t I use my blog?

Skype conversation between me and my sister

Me: So what do you think about my plans for mom?

Sis: I think you should give mom a “heads-up” before posting this. I can’t see her going for this

Me: Really? We’ve been talking about it for the past week

SIDE NOTE: We haven’t exactly talked about me posting about it but we’ve talked about me setting her up on some blind dates – Which she’s totally against. Same difference… Right?

Sis: Has she been saying anything about a relationship lately?

Me: No. I’ve been telling her that I need to set her up. Don’t you think it’s time? She needs to spend time with male company other than Kuba

NO RESPONSE

Me: Are you there? Say something

NOTHING STILL

Me: Kuba talking about Garfield is not cutting it

Sis: LOL… It’s been a while. Do you have anybody in mind?

SIDE NOTE: Hallelujah!

Me: That’s why I need to set her up with a profile on Match

Sis: Are there Antiguan men on there?

Me: I don’t know. I can’t see any prospects before I setup a profile

Sis: Give me a minute. Had a sleepover at the house and have a bunch of hungry little girls to feed

SIDE NOTE: She’s just given me her blessing, right?

So again, I’m on a quest to find a “special friend” for my mom. If you have actual names of prospects please send an email to momtuition@gmail.com. Remember to look at the profile to make sure they qualify. For all other comments do it here. I want other moms who’ve been out of the “special friend limelight” for a while to take advantage of the advice.

COMING SOON! Coffee mug


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