My Girl

When I was pregnant in 2008 and told my close friends that I was having a girl, most, if not all, erupted in the “Hm! You will meet your match!” sentiment. I have no idea why. Indeed when Mam’zelle was born there was a different feeling that I got as opposed to when I had my son almost three years prior. My mind churned with all the things I needed her to know about life and living in the world as a girl/woman. I wish I could have just opened up her head and poured all the wisdom and knowledge inside so she could be prepared for what’s out there.

As she grew into her own person, she became very unlike myself in many ways. As a child I was mild-mannered, afraid to rock the boat or break the rules, played quietly with my dolls and could spend hours to a day in a book. She always had a retort, did not like to read, she moved about indignantly when she was upset, was impatient with schoolwork and deliberate when she did stuff to get in trouble. This was unnerving to me and especially infuriating to my mother as my younger sister and I were not like this (and of course naturally, my parenting skills came into question).

I have largely guided my daughter within her own convictions to ensure that even with her personality, she must get the value systems correct even if I have to drill it into her even more so than I had to do with my son. So with things like honesty, compassion and patience, there is greater need for the sitting and the talking. I have long accepted that although it is indeed more work, it is necessary work. I try my utmost not to compare but there are weak moments where as a parent I think the familiar ‘why can’t you behave like your brother/sister?!’ If you are a parent of children with different personalities and you tell me this thought has never crossed your  mind, your pants are on fire.

More and more these days, I look at Mam’zelle and honestly, if  I was worried that seeing our differences would lead to difficulties, recognizing some of our similarities is downright terrifying. She’s nine now and sometimes I see a lot of my childhood/adolescent insecurities in her. Physically my daughter is like me, a thick girl with thick legs and a large posterior which she’s very conscious of, especially as she does swimming and ballet. (In my youth, countless were the times I was told to ‘tuck in the butt!’ while I was at the barre).  She doesn’t like not knowing something even if it’s something she should not know as yet. When she’s doing something she’s unsure of, there’s an anxiety that shadows her face, her palms sweat and her hands shake. She wants to know that everybody around her is happy with her and sometimes loses herself to make sure that this happens. All of these are familiar to me and there are times when I want to tell her DON’T DO THAT!/DON’T FEEL LIKE THAT! but I know deep down that each of us has to grow as we learn, including her.

A couple of years ago she got really sick and at a particular point I was helpless. It was the absolute lowest point of my existence and I desperately cried out to God that if He pulled her through, I would raise her to be a dynamic one and I would fiercely protect her with all my being until He was ready to call her home. I am more protective of her since then and I’m completely OK with that.  I drag her everywhere and let her know about the sacredness of female relationships even in the face of male-female relationships. She knows when she can be vocal and is learning about when she has to dial it back a bit to silence according to the situation. I impress upon her that her existence is vital and her place in the world is secure and even if I am not there to guide her, she must be sensible enough to know how to position herself. Conventional wisdom dictates that you don’t help the butterfly out of the cocoon, the struggle is what makes it strong enough to fly right?

I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter and my mission is to make sure that I take her from a happy, carefree, strong girl to a spirited, compassionate young woman and thankfully, my girl is well on her way.

Bless up

TMIDM

 

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Whither the humanity?

humanity

plural humanities

1 :compassionate, sympathetic, or generous behavior or disposition :the quality or state of being humane  (marked by compassion, sympathy, or consideration)

(Merriam Webster Online)

It is becoming increasingly difficult to be a Trinidadian right now because sad to say, I live among people who don’t deserve to live in this country, far less this on this planet as human beings.

With the grand exception of the Christmas into Carnival period which is like our yearly escape from reality/purge of bad vibes/one love fest, during the rest of the months we have seem to become a people without hope, descending into a despicable mentality fueled largely by selfishness, race, tribalism, spite, jealousy and greed. There I’ve said it. Harsh? (Where are the lies though?)

Dominica was an island that was largely green, an Eden of sorts, everywhere green with lush flora and fauna. When Hurricane Maria hit, the pictures that emerged were heart-breaking. Aerial shots showed houses with no roofs, broken trees, flood waters and brown earth. The island is completely ravaged, so much so that it brought the Prime Minister to tears on television.

So cue CARICOM. Already there was a need to pour aid into the island of Barbuda, completely destroyed by Hurricane Irma weeks aback. Now as part of the Community there is need to rally behind Dominica as well. Trinidad’s Prime Minister said that Dominicans with friends and family here are welcome for six months with no hassle, we’re opening our borders to help our brothers in need, as good neighbours ought right?  Well thanks to social media, people’s petticoats started to show. These are actual comments from the keyboard warriors on public fora not to mention the private groups of which I’m a member (there are some HEARTLESS teachers out there, TRUST ME!):

“They will have the same rights as national……This is a political move to gain votes…..”

“Is mother Africa sending any aid to hurricane struck islands? Is she opening her home and her pot?”

“…he should open the door to the refugees in Bangladesh”

“just like how it have homeless an needy ppl here all alyuh who agree should take in one homeless Trini…and again I stress that charity begins at home. There is no reason not to help but don’t leave your own to suffer.”

Sigh, it was difficult to sift through the vitriol but I made it out alive. I will also return my new personal rule of not reading commentary after article posts. My brain cells are depending on me.

Whither the humanity Trinidad and Tobago???? 

Now it is notoriously hard to please a Trini eh but something as basic as this? The people island get mash up!!! No infrastructure, no services, no access to communication, in many cases no homes and bare food and you wanna tell me that if they have friends and family over here, people have a problem with them coming? People’s main concerns are about voter padding, “my child didn’t get into Fatima College so it’s not fair for Dominican children to go to school here” and suppose they will all our food and jobs??? Sipping on that Donald Trump tea? Give me a fucking break?  How difficult is it for people to see this rationale behind the decision??? Let me help you. When the day comes and  Trinidad gets fucked over by a mega-Hurricane or by a Mexico-quake (and remember, Karma is a bitch who likes to say, “hold my champagne”), whoever is the new American president (because, Trump 😒 ) or even the Canadian hottie prime minister could make an announcement, “hear what Trinis, once you have friends or family here in the US or Canada, you’re welcome for six months”. Lie to me and tell me you’re not going!!! I’ll wait!!!!…….

…………………….

……………………

Puh-leeze!

Some of us need to take stock of our lives, and I’m not even talking about our physical lives and our needs. I’m talking about our personal lives, our souls, because there is a cynical rot that it taking over that is affecting our present and will most definitely affect our future and I have Trinidadian children to raise and hopefully Trinidadian grandchildren to spoil! A lot of people don’t get that the core of most of the problems in Trinidad and Tobago stem from ourselves, what we hold personally dear, our value systems, our beliefs and notions about what it means to be a HUMAN Being, what we engender in our families and what we contribute to the society in which we live. Crime, crumbling institutions and systems, low productivity, political nonsense all generate from that. So if we as a nation are made up of individuals who measure along this lack of humanity, we are truly lost.

To all who have the courage to defend what it means to be a Trini, I applaud you. I am doing the same. I am blooming where I am planted, it is a philosophy I will continue to ascribe to and according to my vocation, it is one that I will continue to share with those who are to lead in the future. More individuals need to be doing the same instead of down-crying, blaming and stewing in the morass of ‘inhumanity’! That is the ONLY way that the Trinidad and Tobago that we all dream of can return to existence. Fix it!!

Bless up

TMIDM

P.S. There are many organizations taking donations of items but I’m putting here a list of things specifically requested by the Dominican government.  Every little bit of help will help. Give. What you put out into the universe always returns to you, sometimes doubly.

Can I breathe please? 

3a763df1eea27563354f7db6bf6c87b8--daily-mantra-inhale-exhale-tattooThese past couple of weeks have been a complete test on my ability to multitask and to do so with all the patience and grace that I could muster.   To say it passed in a blur would greatly understate how I feel at this present point in time. I was actually in the hair salon under a dryer when I started this post, that’s to tell you how possible it was to find a proper minute’s peace. And even now when I’m supposed to be shaking off the shackles of a secondary school term that left me 😥😥😥😥😥, I still feel like somebody owes me a five day for night stay somewhere sunny with a beach  and copious amounts of alcohol (any kind, not picky at this point).

So rather than give a blow by blow of what happened, I think I will just share my not really random thoughts/questions on these various events as they occurred. Nice? Here I go:

ON SON-SON’S GRADUATION

  1. These things should have tissues. I felt so old! Sniff! 😭 I couldn’t concentrate on all those programme items though I was too busy staring into space wondering where the time went. 🙁20170629_114016
  2. I get that schools have a limit to work with but they should really consider opening it up to three invites per graduand, modern families and all that.  There were a lot of visibly irritated “chile mudders” and “chile faddas” present.
  3. All of a sudden I noticed these 11 and 12 year olds standing up posing and talking like they already finished a year in secondary school. Again, whither goeth the time? 😮
  4. Are novelty photo booths a thing now? 🤔 They are everywhere!
  5. I’m glad the term ‘tea plate’ has evolved into a box of sweet AND savoury pastries AND a drink.
  6. What compares to a look of relief on a teacher’s face? (Biased? Yes!)

ON SECONDARY ENTRANCE ASSESSMENT (SEA) RESULTS

  1. This anxiety that I thought evaded me hit me square in the gut in July 4th. Nobody warned me  sufficiently. 😩
  2. Why do people find shit to complain about when they feel nervous, awkward or expect you to feel the same and concur? All ah we standing up in the hot sun. IIIIIIIIII doh feel like chatting about how hot the sun is…… 😐
  3. That anxiety again. I hope never to feel like that ever again. Even though I have two more to go. But by that time I think the novelty would disappear.
  4. Son-son did not pass for his first choice which reflected on his face in a way that only his mother would observe however, he was super stoked as he got placed in his second choice, a very good school where FIVE of his closest friends were also placed. Can’t complain about that.

ON FORM ONE REGISTRATION

  1. De journeyyyyyyyy now start
  2. I was so happy to observe that Form Six students were leading the programme for registration. I loved the culture of the school already.
  3. So I had to take out a five year insurance because my son wanted to do an extra-curricular sport activity. First I’d heard of it but better safe than sorry right? Plus it was only $100.
  4. Government issued textbooks were piled on but only when I got home did I notice the atrocious state of  one of the books. Moral: Take your time even though you feel overwhelmed.
  5. Secondary school is gonna be sweet.

ON MAM’ZELLE’S FIRST COMMUNION DAY

  1. The first communion ceremony, in spite of its great importance to any young Catholic girl, is also largely a pre-cursor to how you may envision your daughter on her wedding day. 20170630_0908351
  2. Mam’zelle looked really proud and big girl happy. I, on the other hand, stared into space……. 😭
  3. There’s a big difference between a boy’s and a girl’s first communion day. The difference lies in how extra parents are regarding how the child looks. (See 1. above).  With the girls I noticed more necks craning, eyes staring and eyebrows raising.
  4. I didn’t think that the girls actually ‘got’ what the rite was about, even though they got the basics. But like most of us who passed through it, eventually they will.

ON CONDUCTING AND MARKING END OF TERM EXAMS

  1. Why did we have end of term exams?
  2. The stress to create the perfect paper in the third term which would adequately cover what students did with a pinch of first and second term, was entirely too much.
  3. The stress to mark these papers also applies. Particularly when you KNOW you almost literally bled for your students and then you are faced with… 20170627_124852(The sad thing is that this was a national test that they got weeks earlier and I TOLD them that they would get a repeat of it for their exams rather than subject them to a new exam….so……sigh……..)
  4. People tend to say that the teacher influences the student. I wonder if they know that the reverse is also true? And not always in a positive light. Frustration is real. This term was bad. My nonchalance set in quick. I’m at pains to apologise.
  5. People also tend to say that teachers are lucky that the get vacations. I wonder if they know that most of us deem this much needed recovery period? Like post-trauma…. Salute to all of you who finished on a high note though! 👏

ON BOYO TURNING ONE

  1. Turning one year old is an important milestone!! This milestone however was not celebrated by anything resembling a party. Cake, ice cream, snacks only if you want.  I held firm to this with all my gremlinz. They. Will. Not. Remember. A. Thing. Let me underwhelm in peace.
  2. Smash cakes however are essential. Icing is awesome.
  3. My Boyo turned 1 a looooong time ago. We plebs are simply now catching up. 20133683_10154400439936706_179359571_o
  4. (Stare into space……. 😭)
  5. All babies of this generation are being led into world domination by Asahd Khaled, Beyonce’s twins and the genius soon to depart from Serena Williams. I’m noticing that my Boyo along with his peers are operating on an entirely different level. Look out 😐

ON MOVING

  1. And I maintain….it is only when you are moving that you realize HOW MUCH SHIT you own!!!!! AND MOST OF IT UNNECESSARY!!!
  2. A van is an important vehicle to own. Money saving tip yo. 💰💸
  3. Despite the general consensus in Trinidad, some landlords are really nice, I was grateful to score one.
  4. You can be attached to material things and you can’t help it. I was really sad to leave my home but the life beat goes on.
  5. If you suffer with slight OCD like me, ensure that you know EXACTLY where everything has to go. Chaos is no friend to us.
  6. Don’t stop when you’re tired, stop when you’re done.

ON DEATH

  1. When it happens particularly when it’s some degrees of separation away, I always retreat into myself examine my life, my purpose, think about my gremz. It’s a rollercoaster of hope and depression. There is some element of strength that I still need.
  2. Death has no respect for protocol. My husband told me that and it has stuck with me since. It’s whoever, whenever, deal with it. This is the hardest thing to stomach.
  3. Live your life and make those memories. This is what got me through the rough times and I imagine would continue to.

 

So the holidays are upon me. It will be filled with exercise, camp, activities, road trips, swimming, mall runs, the usual. I’m going to try to be gremlin-centred but try not to kill out myself in the process and of course post a couple of updates!

Bless up

TMIDM

Wanna hear a story?

Here it goes:

Once upon a time on a random Tuesday afternoon, a teacher set aside her lesson to scold her class of form ones (11-13 years olds). They had been behaving badly in recent times and they needed a shake up to try to bring them back to reality.

When the teacher was finished and the bell had rung signalling the end of the school day, she had scarcely reached her office and begun to pack up when she was confronted by another teacher who indicated that two girls who were part of the class to whom she had spoken earlier, had instigated a fight with another female student that very minute. The teacher was aghast. Hadn’t she just spoken to these students about their deportment and their lack of discipline? Was it simply a matter of her 35-minute sermon going in one ear and coming out the next? Had she lost precious teaching time for nothing?

The teacher went outside and proceeded to call the two girls who proceeded to delay in walking toward her. This got the teacher annoyed because she began to think about her own biological children who needed to be picked up from school a whole 60-something kilometres away while she had to be there dealing with that nonsense. She began to shout with authority at the girls about the mere stupidity of their actions and insisted that they go to the office.

Concurrently, one of the girls had a boyfriend who was in another class who decided that he would jump into the fray to save his girlfriend from the teacher who was admonishing her. Upon realizing that the boyfriend was addressing her, the teacher turned to the young boy and spoke to him directly, indicating that no one had called him and he should excuse himself. The boyfriend muttered. The teacher asked for clarity and indicated that if he had something to say he should come to her directly. The young boy bounced up, pointed a finger in the teacher’s face and said she should mind her business. Unrelenting in her purpose, the teacher told him that he had no authority to point at her to which he replied “Hush your cunt”. The teacher replied that she didn’t know that he was aware of any body parts belonging to her and then turned to the girlfriend and said, “You have great taste in men.”

In the office, while writing up the notices to see parents for the two young girls, the teacher’s annoyance switched to amusement.  In all of her years working at the school, never had she been so disrespected but she felt as though if it had to happen, it should have been someone a bit more worthy. She jumped in her car and went on her merry way, eager to give her husband the joke about these students’ obvious loss of mental capacity, ruminating on her strategy for the following day and boy would it be a good one.

THE END

EPILOGUE

The mother picked up her own children from school and after her usual pleasantries, realized that something was wrong with her son. He was unusually quiet. He then randomly asks (or maybe not so randomly) when was the next occasion for Confession at their church. This made the mother anxious. At home she realized that he was shadowing her and kept asking for hugs. She didn’t ask him anything but merely waited. Eventually he said he had something to tell her and after almost five minutes of fidgety eyes and playing with his fingers, he said that he knew she was going to get mad but he proceeded to outline what happened. Apparently he was part of  a WhatsApp group with boys commenting using very strong obscene language. A parent found out and the boys got in trouble at school with their teacher. He looked at his mother and said that he was sorry and he knew it was “out of his character” and that he got “caught up”. The mother sighed and said she was glad that he told her and she spoke to him about being responsible on social media and not bowing to peer pressure. She imagined that it would be the first of many like conversations but boy was she proud that he found it enough on his conscience to recognize his missteps and to come clean. She trained her son to be sensible enough (not perfect but sensible!) to identify a basic right from a wrong approach and wondered why other parents couldn’t do the same.

Bless up

TMIDM

Have merSEA!

Well my Son-son is 11, in standard five in primary school and about to write the big Secondary Entrance Assessment (SEA) exam this Thursday. According to Trini culture and lore, this is the most important exam of a student’s life, destined to make you or break you depending on which secondary school you are headed when the results come in. Parents cry, teachers lose hair and the children drill mathematical formulae, grammatical exercises and seemingly endless compositions up until the dreaded day that they aim to get their first choice out of four. Cue ominous voice:

may_the_fourth_be_with_you_by_themooken-da1apux

http://themooken.deviantart.com/art/May-the-fourth-be-with-you-606841449

Knowing that he is prone to anxiety, I laid all the pressure on Son-son on standard four and eased off the valve considerably. As the date draws near, I think I am more anxious than he is. However my anxiety stems from the fact that I am completely FED UP! of the preparation for the exam. I’m so thankful that his teacher is so meticulous, another parent told me some time ago that he has a ‘system’ to churn out boys to perform at the SEA exam. But at this point if I see YET ANOTHER quasi difficult poem, I will scream. I think a couple of nights ago was the last straw.  He came and said he read the poem and didn’t understand it. So I took a look. This is a poem called Children’s Song by R.S. Thomas which he had to read and answer about ten questions:

We live in our own world,
A world that is too small
For you to stoop and enter
Even on hands and knees,
The adult subterfuge.
And though you probe and pry
With analytic eye,
And eavesdrop all our talk
With an amused look,
You cannot find the centre
Where we dance, where we play,
Where life is still asleep
Under the closed flower,
Under the smooth shell
Of eggs in the cupped nest
That mock the faded blue
Of your remoter heaven.
 
Ronald Stuart Thomas
Dafuq is subterfuge??? ‘Remoter heaven’??? My poor child!
I mean honestly, I get the gist of the poem, but I think it’s a bit much for an 11 year old to find extra deep metaphorical meaning in a high stakes exam. I understand that the poem is usually the difficult part of the exam but have mercy, this or any poem like it reads like stress! The questions that followed were even worse.
So these last few days I haven’t been harping on him at all partly because I think he’s reached his zenith and partly because again…me…fed up…. He had practice tests for the past two Saturdays and beyond that I gave him a free pass to the TV and the games on his tab. Of course everything was done in moderation so he also had to clean inside my car and do his regular chores as well. I don’t want this SEA pressure to fold him in even before the exam.
Thursday morning I plan to wake him up, act as normally as possible and not make a big deal about it. On our way there, he may get a Bruno Mars karaoke session, lame jokes in the car and I’ll kick him out with a hug and a ‘good luck dude’! If I get the butterflies, they’re going to remain in stasis at the very least until he’s out of my sight. I hope I don’t wig out. This SEA can’t drown us both.
Bless up
TMIDM

As The World Turns

 

*dusts off cobwebs again…….

So much has changed that I had to actually go back to the About Me section of my blog and switch up a few things…most notably that I’m no longer dreadlocked, no longer a student and now a Trini Mom in the Middle of THREE children! My world is still spinning on its axis though.earth-spinning-rotating-animation-25

I cut my locks simply because they were getting too long and I felt like I needed something new with my hair. It’s so strange how people react when you cut your hair, I cut it Christmas last year and people STILL ask me “why I cut it” and “if I’m growing it back”. I get that locks is an “investment”, to some it’s a spiritual thing, to others a statement. To me it was just my hairstyle, not a measure of my blackness or a way to fall into a trend. I cut it, if I feel like it, I’ll grow it back, meanwhile the Earth still turns.

 

hair
I am not my hairrr…

I finished my Postgraduate Diploma in Education (yayyyyyy!!!!) which took up ALL of my spare time. I couldn’t even spare time to blog, the guilt was too much! It  was such an INTENSE programme crammed into less than a year that there were times I felt as though I was losing my mind. Sleepless nights, split personalities, loss of brain function…the works…And in the middle of essays, research, teaching in other schools and sitting through three-hour long evening sessions, I still had to pretend to adult: routine to uphold, two gremlinz to see about, household to maintain and of course my job to do. I’m done my life is back to normal, the world is still turning and I’m so glad I got out in one piece…..well maybe not ONE piece…….

bb
New gremlin!

So there is some talk that the DipEd would impact your personal life in various ways. I’ve heard of marriages, mental breakdowns, divorces and pregnancies. I found out I was pregnant in the middle of the programme which initially was very difficult for me to deal with as I had ZERO intentions of having another baby. I eventually got over the shock and simply went with the flow. To be a little more honest I didn’t really “feel” pregnant until my programme was done. I guess I dealt with it by putting it on the back burner, let my brain compartmentalise in order to function…..

This Trini Mom in D Middle of it all has had it to deal with over the past year or so. Hopefully within it all I can continue doing a better job in documenting it here. In the meantime, life spins on.

Bless up

TMIDM

TIME

Jeezanages…….

It sure has been a while hasn’t it? Ah too shame but you know what they say, Sometimes life gets in the way of having fun…..

Now I think Time is the most powerful force on the planet. I doh even know if Time is a force but it’s clearly pretty important and damn near priceless because we are all using it, some wasting it, racing against it, begging for more of it, wishing we could go back in it, wondering where it went and trying to spend the remainder of it the best we could.

I am in a persistent race with time simply because I value it so much so I don’t like to waste it at all. I am hustling every single day and at the end of each day I still beat up about what I should have done or what I could have slipped in. Then I plan for the next day and the cycle continues. Some people (read: my husband) get annoyed by this but it is simply the way I am wired. I hate leaving home late, I am always strategizing the distance and time to and from places, trips to run errands, workouts at the gym. Imagine I haven’t gone to the new Chaguaramas boardwalk yet because I seriously dread the outcoming traffic and I won’t even be the one driving! One of my closest friends suggested “Parang on the Boardwalk!” And as much as I’m a Christmas baby and I love anything Christmas-related and not to mention FREE!, my response was “Do you have a boat?”

Now October is the month of the year where I always think about Time, it’s my reflection month. My two gremlinz go up a year, Mamzelle on Thursday, Son-son exactly one week after and this year he is entering double digits!!! The big 1-0! (Cue ensuing staring into space trying to recall all memorable moments and frantic watching of baby pictures from now until next week…..) These days I casually observe them even more, I look at how he’s almost my height and she’s getting thick in the legs like me. I listen to them as they watch TV and enter into this university-level discussion about why pirates are fake, or why Flow trying to teach people Spanish in smart. I watch her storming his room and sleeping on his bed every…..single…..night and as frustrated as I am about this, (dis chile doh like to sleep a full night on her own bed at allll!!!) clearly neither of them seem to mind. In time to come that will change so maybe I should just cool it.

I try to remember what my freedom was like before I had the gremz and sometimes come up short. I know I went out and partied a lot but I can’t recall what I used to do in my spare alone time. I tend to study what the future would be like once they grow up and buss out God spare life. These days I’m starting to envision them in secondary school and wondering what their career specialties will be, my version of putting it out there in the universe I guess. I remember once I was in a deep reverie about them having their own children and their own lives and then I would be old and then die and they would have to put flowers on my grave in Lapeyrouse and I wouldn’t be around to watch them anymore and to tell them that I only want lilies and not dem cosquelle chrysanthemums that always appear on coffins in these wide-ass bouquets which I hate. I won’t lie, I shed actual tears during this stream of consciousness that happened only in my mind with my obsession about time. It didn’t help that I also had PMS.

Although October makes me stop and think, there’s no sense in me telling myself that I will slow down to smell the roses, this only happens when I’m on vacation. I keeps it real but neither will I ‘sleep when ah dead’ either. Life is about maintaining balance I suppose and I am certain I’m not the only one who feels the same. In the meantime I’m living and the clock is ticking.

WWW.TRUTHFORLIFE.ORG

Bless up

TMIDM

Allow me this rant…

Last week Son-son was in a fight. This is the first time in his whole 5-year primary school career that he has ever been in a physical fight so I was understandably stunned.  He didn’t start the fight but he was in it, and by in it, I mean he was punched and kicked twice by one boy while he lost his footing and fell to the floor. Now thankfully he was not bruised and no bones were broken but I quickly grew to rage as I saw his face swollen, imagined the visual and realized that there was nothing I could have done about it at the time as school was already dismissed.

He’s fine and the matter is settled now with the school but I think in all what really ticked me off was this expressed sentiment by a few that my son couldn’t have defended himself or that he ‘does take licks easy’ and that he’s too ‘sorf’ (soft). “He didn’t know to hit that boy some tap?” Now there was a point in time where it was just my son and I and since then my family has grown but there has always been this idea by some that because he grew up with me in his younger days, he was too ‘up under me’, too sensitive and not ‘tough’ or ‘fearless’ enough.

I don’t know why people don’t understand that my son is not a fighter and that is perfectly OK. He does not like conflict, he does not engage in it and does not want to be caught up in it and that is perfectly OK. He does not like karate and that is OK. He is not devoid of physical activity because he is always on-the-go, sweaty, smelly and speaks excitedly at break-need speed. He is normal, functioning and intelligent. When the time comes he will be able to defend himself wisely and nobody will have to teach him how to throw a punch or to block and that is what it is. I always thank God that he has never been the subject of the bullying that is so rampant in Trinidad and Tobago’s primary schools these days and this was a random, wild incident by a peer who temporarily lost his mind it would seem.

I asked him why he didn’t defend himself, he replied that all he was thinking in the quick time that it happened was that he didn’t want to be expelled from school. He suffered as a result of it but after the fact that answer worked for me especially as I see the result of the tit-for-tat school scuffles bleeding into the secondary school system. I’m raising my son to be a thinker not a fighter and the pure fact of the matter is that the thinkers, the ones who see consequence before action, are the ones who succeed in this life. Plain talk.

Bless up

TMIDM

No words for this…

“Look I smoking weed!”

I looked at my husband, he looked at me. Casually I asked her still facing front in the car, “what did you say dear?”.  She replied, “I smoking weed!” confirming what I thought I heard and wished I dreamt. Son-son who was having none of it retorted, “Do you even KNOW what weed is?”.  She replied matter-of-factly, “Youuu doh know what weed is? Hm!” I was shaking but not externally. I turned around and saw that she had taken one of the paper napkin rings from the restaurant we just left and had rolled it up positioning it between her index finger and thumb. I turned back around and took a deep breath, “Who told you about weed honey?” My daughter then detailed that her BFF told her about weed, her brother smokes it, it looks like dried leaves, you put it in a little paper, you roll it up and smoke it. When she was finished I turned back around looked her square in the eyes and I told her, “Listen to me, smoking weed is a very adult thing, it is not even for children to pretend to do. You know what happens when you get caught smoking weed? The police arrests you because weed my dear is illegal! You can go to JAIL!” Yes, I crescendoed to make my point and I know it worked because the fear in my voice transferred to her now very wide eyeballs. I told her to take the information to the BFF and let her know too to put a stop to THAT game. That’s the best I could have done, mission somewhat accomplished, obviously more explanations to come.

Why Lord do I have to inform my 6 year old about the dangers of smoking and weed? I’m in the middle of 6-year old matters! Spelling and dictation, girls’ drama, negotiations for increased pocket money, ballet… Sex is a big enough hurdle to cross with trepidation even at 6, drugs is something you think you would comfortably tackle in the teenage years! Never would I have imagined that this is something that I would have to explain to her at this age. Am I naïve? What was also scary about it is the casual manner in which she said it which was unnerving but I needed information and I guess she was innocent to it all. However, the words for a conversation with her about this haven’t even been formed properly in my head so I just gave her the basic answer, it’s not for children.

You have to be so careful as to what your children are exposed to but there are times when it cannot be avoided. Yes you can turn off the tv or switch the channel from Disney and their growing filth, but are you in the schoolyard or on the playground when the children are huddled in their little corners having their powwows? More and more I’m realizing that it is beyond critical to raise my gremz who are independent thinkers complete with the morals and values that will enable them to stand up when the occasion arises. I’m not always going to be around. But worse than that is that there are things that we as parents are going to have to fully explain to children at ages younger than intended simply because of the way the world is turning nowadays. Are you ready? I hope I will find the correct words…

Bless up
TMIDM

BANANAAAAA!!!!!!

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Happy Birthday to me! Or rather Happy Anniversary to me!!!

Yesterday marked one entire year since I decided to launch my adventures and thoughts publicly on the interwebz as Trini Mom In D Middle and I must say it has been a very interesting year thus far. More than a year ago I would not have thought to start a blog and during consideration I was still so wary that I even asked advice from an old school mate who is heavily into media of all forms. She encouraged me so much that if she didn’t I don’t think I would have been here 51 posts later. I can now say fully that all my trepidation about writing has waned somewhat but  I’m still learning!

So this is a big deal for me, a whole year has passed, I haven’t quit or left my blog to totally rot. I knowwwww I could do a bit more posting and to be honest all sorts of things pop into my head and I say to myself “Self, you need to do a post” but sometimes circumstances (and carving out time!) get in the way….still learning!

So thanks for reading the few of you who do, I’m soooo grateful for the support you guys have no idea. Thanks to the peeps who encourage me on my facebook page https://www.facebook.com/trinimomindmiddle, thanks to those who also encourage me in my daily travails as well. Here’s to my second year!

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Bless up!

TMIDM