Tooting Your Horn with Your Kids

As you all know, I am really involved in my kids’ lives…mainly because I don’t have one of my own. However, I like being there to cheer them on. Growing up, I was extremely involved in school activities, especially sports. So being on the sidelines, in the bleachers or in the dugout with my kiddos only seems natural. However, they have been a little skeptical of “Mom” having too much of an opinion about their extra-curricular activities. Why? Because they’ve never known me to be involved in any extra-curricular activities myself. In their minds, I am the queen of all things domestic. If they need instructions on brushing teeth or making beds, I am the resident expert…literally. But when it comes to things outside of the home, they often feel that I am outside of my element. That had to change.

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not a horn tooter. To my own detriment most times, I rely heavily on self-deprecating humor to keep from being embarrassed when I receive compliments. In doing so, I have not only downplayed my skills with adults, but with my children as well. For instance, Jack has played basketball for a couple of seasons now. When I have tried to give him advice or show him proper technique in the past, he would brush me off. Finally, I asked him why.

“Because you’ve never played basketball, Mommy,” he said.

What? How could this be?  My own son didn’t know I played junior high, high school and collegiate basketball? 

photo from my high school yearbook

Hadn’t I told him this before? Haven’t I showed him pictures or taken him to a game? In short, no! Jack believes the greatest thing I’ve ever done was give birth to him. So when I received an email to attend an SMU game honoring basketball alums, I quickly RSVP’d and made the kiddos tag along.

At halftime, all former players were asked to report court-side to be recognized.

“Where are you going,” Jack asked?

“I’m going down to the court,” I replied.

Surprised, he asked, “You played here?”

“Yes! Now watch Westley until I get back.”

So who’s the assistant coach of Jack’s basketball team? Me! And he is more inclined to listen to me now that he knows my basketball background.

The same thing occurred with Reese. She was on the mini-cheerleading squad at her school, and they were preparing to perform at a high school football game.  While she was showing me her routine at home, I said,

“Looks great! Straighten your arms a little more though,”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “This is cheerleader stuff, not mommy stuff. Watch, and I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Oh no she didn’t! I had to break out the 1989 Woodrow Wilson High School yearbook to show her my cheerleading skills!!

Before this, I barely made a noise with my horn. Now, I’m a tooting fool. When checking over their language arts homework, they would give me the stink eye until I reminded them that I used to be an English teacher. When rehearsing speeches for church or memorizing poems for school, they sighed in utter frustration every time I told them to slow down and “put your face into it.” That’s until I pulled out my old resume tapes from being a TV reporter. 

I’m not doing this because I’m pompous or overly proud of the things I’ve done. Instead, I want my children to be proud of the things I’ve done and, in turn, to be proud of themselves and where/who they come from. I am constantly learning that parenting is about more than just washing dishes and folding clothes. I’m their most important mentor…their very first role model. It’s imperative that I share what I know… the good and the bad. They need to see Mommy learn a new skill, meet a goal or overcome an obstacle… because if Mommy can do it, they can too.

Try it. Share your experiences with your kids. And it doesn’t have to be something monumental. If you are going back to school to get a degree, let them look at your homework assignments.  If you’re working out at the gym, take them along. Show your children that there are more dimensions to you than what they see at home. You will open their eyes to the real meaning of the word “superwoman.”  And instead of you bragging on them all of the time, you just might catch them bragging on you.

Giving Thanks

Westley, Jack and Reese at Galveston Beach

Thanksgiving 2013 is only a few days away. The kids are spending this holiday with their father, so I have a little quiet time to reflect on what I’m thankful for. I’m not going to lie; these past couple of years has been full of pitfalls. Divorce, relocation and single parenthood are enough to make anyone want to reshuffle the cards of life. But because I have been blessed with so many people who love and care about me and my children, the transition has been made easier. And for that, I am thankful.

Grandparents’ Day at Westley and Jack’s schools made me realize how fortunate we are. My parents are the only grandparents the kids have left. My mom has health issues, while my dad considers this “extra.” He has come in the past, but has not always considered these things a priority. So, I knew I would have to ask some other “grand friends” to help me out. The kids’ always-faithful Godparents, the Paynes and the Bookers, filled in last year but had to work this year. So, I sent out an email to some of our close family friends. 30 minutes hadn’t passed before I received some responses. Within an hour, I had several people on the calendar to represent the Jackson household at Grandparents’ Day.

Never mind that they weren’t actually grandparents. Hell, they didn’t even have kids, but were willing to take time out of there busy day to be there for my children. And like any parent will tell you, when you’re there for my kids, you’re there for me. To top it off, there were even a few members of our village who were upset they didn’t make the cut (Brenda Williams). Don’t worry, there’s always next year.

I didn’t want to start naming names because there are so many friends who stand in our corner. However, a few honorable mentions couldn’t be ignored. Angela Payne, AKA “Aunt A,” is constantly on flood patrol. If she sees any of my children with pants above their ankles, there is a new bag of clothes always waiting on me the following week at church. Len Payne, AKA Uncle Len, is good for pep talks, football drills and drinks when mom really needs one or six. Janet Booker is always chastising and urging me to see the wonder in my kids, even when they've behaved like bandits and don’t deserve it. My cousin Nikie Sewell, AKA “Spirit of Peter,” is my ride-or-die chick and will shank a brother if needed, no explanation required. I could go on and on about Katy, my girl from high school, who always has my back, or the Nicoles, with the dog and without, who handle carpools, zoo camp and last minute babysitting, and Erica Miles, AKA “Auntie Erica,” who bought Reese her first pair of pearls.

I may have some trials, but I have nothing to complain about. Everyone from my beautician to my boss is a great source of support for me. I couldn’t manage this volatile terrain without them. When I’m down, I don’t have to scroll too far through the contact list to find someone to talk with, a shoulder to cry on, a friend.

 I am so thankful for the angels that God has placed around my family. I could not do this alone. To anyone who has ever done the slightest, smallest thing for my family, I want to say thank you.

Raising Reese

Reese on the 1st day of school 

I’m not sure I’m doing this right. This raising children thing is not easy. And if you have multiples, one size does not fit all. I’m learning the hard way that when you have more than one child, you love them equally, but not in the same way (I got that from my friend Katy Henderson). Learning the difference between the two can be a painful lesson for all. I have two boys, but raising Reese, my daughter, is completely different. While I realize the obvious distinction, the ones underneath take a little more scrutiny to detect. And when you’re a single parent, those hard-to-see traits can often be overlooked.

Those of you who read my blog are also probably friends of mine on Facebook. So you know that recently, I had an eye-opening experience at one of Reese’s soccer games. While I thought I was yelling encouraging words and helpful tips from the sidelines, she thought I was just yelling. I felt horrible for a few days because I could tell she perceived my over-zealous cheering to mean that I was not pleased with her or that she wasn’t good enough. I explained that I was just trying to help. She understood, but ask me to bring it down a notch. Agreed. Little did I know, she was feeling a lot more insecurities than I was aware of.

I had to find out from her teacher. 

Having been a teacher, I like to prepare for teacher conferences. I keep my kiddos worksheets and ask questions about whether they are performing well and what their dad and I can do to assist. However, I was not prepared for what I was about to hear. Mrs. Jennings, Reese’s first grade teacher, told me that Reese was doing an excellent work and that she was a delight to be around. What she wanted me to do at home was to build Reese’s self esteem.

“What?” I said dumbfounded.

“Reese constantly second guesses herself,” explained Mrs. Jennings. “She doesn’t realize that she is one in a million.”

I ended up crying in the conference. Not because I was full of joy over the compliment, but that someone else had to tell me how special my daughter was. You see, in all honesty, I don’t look for it. I don’t have time to. I am so busy trying to make sure that she knows her spelling words, or explaining how cleaning her room is an important responsibility. I’m giving her my two cents on soccer and singing in the choir. I want her to excel. When she tells me she had a good day at school, I say “that’s not the exception, that’s the norm. You’re doing what you’re supposed to.” I do the same thing to Jack. But he lets it go in one ear and out the other. I think Reese internalizes all of those comments as criticisms and believes she is not good enough.

It breaks my heart.  I would never hurt her.

She once compared me to Merida’s mom in the movie Brave.

“She fusses to much, kind of like you,” Reese would say.

“And kind of like me, Merida’s mom just wants what’s best for her.” I shrugged off.

I didn’t pay any attention then. Now, I realize she was right. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing her, but it appears I was driving her spirits down instead of lifting them up. She knows how much I love her, right? I don’t have to keep telling her, do I? Yes.

I need to celebrate the many things that Reese is and not focus on the things that she isn’t. Because truth be told, I don’t care if she is the next Mia Hamm or not. I just want her to give her best at whatever she does. But she’s not Jack. My support may need to take the shape of motherly love rather than motivational speaker. She needs to know that I love her whether her room is clean or not, whether she scores a goal or not, whether she makes a perfect score on a test or not.

Some of Facebook friends and I are participating in a 30-day Mom Challenge: Mom’s Ultimate To-Do List. Each day, there is a mommy action item. But instead of doing laundry, it asks you to hug your children 3 times in a day or leave a sweet note for them. Until I started doing it, I didn’t realize how seldom I engaged in this type of activity with my kids. So, I am vowing from this day forward to be Reese’s mother and not her life coach.  I want her to know that she is special. She’s not Jack or Westley. She is my “sweet girl,” Reese….and she’s one in a million in my eyes too.

Keeping up with the Jackson

The Jackson trio in their variety of extra-curricular activities

It’s hard enough being a single parent. But when you’re crazy, like I am, and you allow them to participate in several activities, hard is putting it mildly.

The problem is that I want my kids to be exposed.

As a kid, I lived with my grandmother, so by definition my experiences were limited.  However, I was still involved in a lot of activities. I played sports, participated in show choir, performed with the drill team and was a cheerleader. I went on to a great university (go SMU Mustangs) and had some great times.  However, my grandmother would always say, “ I just want you to have a really good job, like at the post office.” Because of her limited exposure, not her fault…but society’s, that was her view of what would lead to wealth and prosperity. I want my kids to know there’s more to life than just the post office.

But DAMN. I am killing myself physically, and some months financially, trying to keep up with the Jacksons.

I have elected to put my children into private school. And as I have said in a previous blog, there is more to the cost of this decision than just tuition. When you’re in this environment, there is the desire (maybe pressure) to make sure that you keep up.  They need some exposure to organized sports and activities. How you ask??? By joining the soccer team, flag football, basketball, mini-cheerleaders, mini-drill team, cub scouts, girls scouts, Y-princesses, chess club, choir and we’re just in lower school.  I worry about gymnastics classes because I know that when cheerleading tryouts roll around in high school, some of the participants will have been on a tumbling team since age three.  I worry about private lessons for whatever sport we are playing because I don’t want my kid to ride the bench in the future. One of the choirs that my son auditioned for required a resume.  He’s eight!!! In short, I’m worried about whether I’ve made the right decision by placing myself in this competitive parenting environment because, frankly, I don’t know if I’m up for the challenge.

It seems all this exposure is leaving me, well….exposed! Keeping up with the Jacksons is giving me 3^rd degree burns. I didn’t grow up with all of this and I turned out okay.  Right?  I didn’t have a portfolio of activities for my resume by age 10. I’m still relatively successful. Right?

But like most parents, I want my children to leave me and my experiences in the dust.  I want them to know the sky is the limit. But the question I keep asking myself is whether they will know that because of the schools they attend or by the model they are given….me.

Learning from Letdowns

No dessert devastates Westley

Life is rough and then you die, right?

But when you’re a mom, you really don’t like the idea of your little one being hurt, heartbroken or devastated. We say, “Sometimes they have to learn the hard way.” But if we’re honest with ourselves, another cliché is also true when it comes to painful moments for our kids. “This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

I felt that way just this week. Jack and Reese were attending camp at a local recreation center. After a couple days, Jack insisted on taking his Nintendo DS with him.

“No,” I said.

“Please, Mom? Everyone is bringing theirs,” pleaded Jack.

I went on to explain to him that it WILL come up missing. That’s the case at any camp-like function where there are a lot of kids and few adults. I also told him that when it does, he would take his case before Santa (aka-Granny) because I was not going to buy him another one.

Right on cue as I was picking them up, Jack appeared before me with red eyes and slumped shoulders. Since the cat had Jack’s tongue, his always-verbal sidekick, Reese, took over elaborating on the day’s horrific events.

“Someone stole Jack’s DS!!!” she proclaimed

“You don’t say,” I side-eyed Jack.

“Yes,” she continued, “but we know who did it. His name is…”

“I don’t care what his name is.” I turned to Jack, “Son, didn’t I tell you this was going to happen? I’m not going out of my way to fix this, because I warned you.”

I continued to scold, and he continued to cry. Finally, he yelled, 

“But he’s not being honest. Why is he not being honest and stealing other people’s stuff.”

Right then it dawned on me. This was more than just an incident of stealing. It was innocence lost.

 I know what you’re thinking.  What’s the big deal? You told him not to take the D-S, he did and he lost it. But the days that followed painted the picture. The recreation center took the kids to the movies. Jack was super-anxious about his money being stolen. He and Reese took some snacks one day. As soon as we got there, he asked the counselor if she could lock them up in her office.  Now, I’m all for a healthy dose of common sense and awareness, but I don’t want the child to think he is going to get robbed every time he leaves the house. He and his siblings had already been bowled over by the fact that their parents weren't perfect by living through a divorce. I don’t want all of the fun to be taken out of his life just yet. That will come soon enough. And to see the child-like trust in him dissipate a bit more, was…well, sad!

I know that eventually he needs to learn that not everyone needs to be trusted and to take the necessary precautions to be safe, but I was hoping I could shield him a little bit longer.

There was a happy ending though.  The culprit returned Jack’s DS, and all is well. But it won’t ever be the same.

Fast and Easy Chicken Pot Pie

As a working mom, it's hard to slave over the stove to provide your kids with a healthy meal. So, when I find a good recipe that is fast and slightly nutritious, I am more than willing to share. I found this recipe on the back of a Philadelphia Cream Cheese Savory Garlic tub and have been smitten ever since.

It's super easy.  I use about a pound of chicken breast tenderloins, but it's really your preference. You can use the whole breast or any other piece. The sauce is so good that it works for just about about anything. I chop, season and saute the chicken in about a tablespoon of vegetable oil.  Once browned, I add frozen peas and carrots. You can also use mixed vegetables for a little more variety if you like. Once the veggies are heated through, add the tub of Philadelphia Cream Cheese with Savory Garlic and heat until bubbly.  Pour the mixture into a deep dish pie crust and then cover with pre-made pie crust dough.  I trim the edges, pinch the two pie crusts together and score the middle.  If you're really an overachiever, you can put some egg wash on it to make it brown and pretty.  But it is delicious..and most of the all, the kids like it.  Serve with a little fruit, and you have all of the major food groups covered.  Try it and let me know what you think.

Paula and Prop 8 and Trayvon! Oh My!!!!

I am a former reporter and anchor, and I know that these past few weeks have been a newsmaker’s dream.  Paula Deen, the famed butter queen of the Food Network, admits to having said the N-word. Then, in two separate rulings, the Supreme Court overturned Proposition 8 that banned same-sex marriages in California, while ruling legally married same-sex couples must receive the same federal benefits provided to heterosexual couples. Last, but not lease, the murder trial of George Zimmerman, who is accused of killing African-American teen Trayvon Martin, got underway amidst a flurry of lights and cameras.  There is no shortage of opinions on any of these, so I’m throwing my two cents in, as well.

I’ll begin with Paula Deen. I DON’T CARE. I know this is not the popular opinion among most African Americans, but I am actually surprised that people are surprised.  She is a senior, Caucasian woman who has lived her entire life in the South…the Deep South…the O-G South. I honestly don’t know why people wouldn't expect her to say it. She said it happened 20 years ago, and maybe she is lying.  But, I want to give her props for admitting it at all.  Is it right? No. Does she need to issue an apology? It wouldn’t hurt.  But we have politicians, athletes, and Wall Street investors who lie, steal and cheat every day. They haven’t so much as missed a good night’s sleep, much less lost their means of income. Wal-Mart bailed on Paula, but is known for cutting corners and taking advantage of its employees. Who’s worse??

The fight for equality in same-sex marriages is a little more complicated for me. Whether I agree or disagree is purely a personal decision. But should we, as a country, let personal preferences affect the way we govern our constituents? I tend to think not. Should we deny people the right to get married?  I believe there was a time when slaves were denied the same right. And as for benefits, if you put in, you should get out, right?  If you have been a part of your spouse’s/partner’s life, you should be given the right to make decisions, make hospital visits and receive death benefits, right? Same-sex marriage is not for me, but neither is cauliflower. I don’t know if that means I should keep you from doing what’s best for you. I feel like we, as a society, are in a tight spot. Last I read, freedom was the premise for the founding of this country. We can’t stop following the rules now. But with freedom comes responsibility. And that’s always the hard part.

If Paula Deen hasn’t set black folks back 20 years, the Trayvon Martin murder trial has. A young African-American teen, wearing a hoodie and walking home from the store is considered to be a suspicious character. Because of this “unruly behavior,” he is confronted by George Zimmerman. An altercation takes place and Trayvon is killed. As the mother of two young boys, this scenario bothers me much more than Paula Deen’s slip of the tongue. When does WHWB, wearing a hoodie while black, mean you’re a criminal?   And the trial is no better. The star witness is a young girl who has a bad handle on the English language because English is her second/third language, thanks to Caribbean parents. But the prosecution has no problem mocking her and putting her on display for the nation to ridicule. Instead of being a trial about accused killer, George Zimmerman, it has quickly turned into a circus surrounding Trayvon’s friend. And if we’re not careful, this verdict will be determined by entertainment value rather than facts.

Indeed, it has been a busy news week. Everything from World News Tonight to the Wendy Williams Show has had something to say about the hot topics in the national news. What do you think about what’s happening?  Let me know.