OMG, I think I'm raising a DIVA.



Our "Little Miss" in action
 with her big sister



By now you know that I have three BEAUTIFUL girls.  They are beautiful both inside and out.  On one hand they are kind, helpful and care about helping others.  And they do well in school.  On the other they can be very loud, messy, some times bossy, and very nosey!  But all in all I wouldn't trade them for anybody else's kids.  My oldest is a sports nut like her dad.  Everything and anythings sports she is game to play.  She plays, soccer, tennis, basketball and is an avid golfer.   My second born is my little rising star, she likes to play sports but being the center of attention is more her thing.  This summer she is going to a performance camp, and she can not wait.  And then there is my "Little Miss."  She is my youngest, and has embraced her role as the youngest completely. 

Diva: Definition of modern day diva - "someone who is extremely demanding and fussy when it comes to personal privileges"

Imani is 4.   And at 4, she must approve her outfit before she will wear it.  Don't get me wrong, if I need her to, she will wear what I have available.  But right now, she wants to wear a skirt everyday.  The more ruffles the better.  And the shirt MUST have rhinestones or glitter, or a flower or heart.  And if the shirt is pink, has a glittery-rhinestone encrusted heart nestled in a bed of flowers - now we are talking a home run.   All I'm saying is she knows what she likes and knows what she doesn't like.

The first time I think I noticed that she was a little different than my other kids in the "Diva" category was this collage she made in preschool. It was supposed to be a collage of her favorite things.  The other kids had cut out cute picture of dolls,dogs,cats, cars, and other cute things.  Not my kid.   She has a big old picture of a diamond rings, an expensive digital camera and silk blouse.  

Last summer, my cousin invited us on his new boat.  Since then, Imani has dis-owned her own father for her cousin, because "he has a boat" as she explains.

Her latest "diva" activity is that she had to have these gold sparkle shoes from Target.  Lucky for her the shoes were only $3.50.  And now they are the ONLY shoes she wants to wear.  *deep sigh*  But I know I'm not alone.  I recently saw another mother who had a five year old with a big frilly, flouncy, bouncy, brightly colored skirt.  I told the mom that I loved her skirt,  and then I said "she must want to wear it all the time", while at the same time other mom  said "she wants to wear it all the time."  I understood - exactly.   

Maybe its not that she's a Diva, maybe Imani is into all things girlie, princess and pink.  I don't know, but she certainly is demanding, but cute as a button. I think I'll keep her and all her Diva ways. :)

Garage sales vs Charity

OK, so today we had a cul-de-sac yard sale.  Our neighbors  decided that it would be a wonderful idea to have a big garage sale.  And with the suggestion,  in the back of my head I hear this little voice saying - almost singing - "Don't do it....You know you don't have time....Don't do it!"  But of course I don't listen and say "That's great idea!"  And actually I did think that it was a great idea, but not necessarily practical for my schedule.  We decided a month ago that the event would be today.  So as time passed, I saw my neighbors diligently stacking and sorting and pricing.  My anxiety about the whole thing started building.  While they put stuff together, my husband and I discussed what we wanted to sell, but never did anything about it.  Fast forward to 5:30 last night.  I'm in my garage surrounded by stuff - boxes unpacked from when we moved in (6 years ago), lawn supplies and bikes and toys.  I'm overwhelmed by the volume but have to start somewhere. So I open the garage door and take a deep breath.  5 hours later, we had made enough progress to actually set up a table with various various items.  

My husband and I called it quits about 10:30pm, and go to bed.  Our GS is from 7am to noon, so we get up at 4 am and pull it together. We get all of our kids clothes laid out, all of the extra bikes, toys and knick-knacks out for the world to ogle over and cross my fingers that they would be so kind to give me a dollar for something worth ten.  Noon is slow coming, but we packed up the left over goods, and pack them BACK in the garage.  And for all of our hard work, sore muscles and lack of sleep, we made a whopping 70 dollars.  Yup that's it. 

Lesson Learned: Next year, I'm just calling the Goodwill truck to take my stuff and take the tax deduction.   And next year when my neighbors are doing it all over again.... I'll be on my lawn chair sipping tea.  From here on out, Charity will win every time.

Let them eat cake....

My middle child turned 9 on April 23rd.  She really only had one request.  She asked that I make her birthday cake for her.  She knew that she wanted a big cake covered with funky colors and fun.  My child thinks of herself as a superstar. So with her picking the colors, I went on a journey to bake her a "star-worthy" cake.  I've baked plenty of cakes in my life, but never have I tried making my own buttercream and fondant. I looked up all the details on allrecipes.com and went for it.  It took a few nights of baking and testing  putting on the fondant.  I actually think I did pretty well smoothing the fondant on the cakes, but I also don't think any bakers are shaking in their boots either- lol. The picture doesn't do the cake justice, but I am proud of what I accomplished for my little superstar. 

It only took 19 years....but I think I finally get it.

The problem: Like an idiot who does the same thing over and over and expects a different result, I have for 19 years tried to get my husband to do things when I want him to do them.  And for 19 years he has resisted, we have fought, I have lied about what time we were supposed to arrive at events and it has never failed: He does what he wants ,when he wants. Period.  I've been frustrated, cried many tears, stomped off in a huff, and have been a ball of nervous energy waiting for him and its never made him move any faster. 

The revelation:  No matter how much I try, I can't get my husband to work by my schedule.  I know it should have been obvious after the first say - five years.  But I guess I just always hoped that "just this once" it would be different.

How I changed:  This weekend my family went on a short vacation.  I woke up early and started getting ready for the day.  In the past,  I would have  woke up my husband and tell him that we needed to get  going so the girls could do XY or Z.  This time I got the older girls up, I told them that "Daddy and Mommy work on two different clock's" and that if they wanted to go out they should get dressed and come with me, or they could stay with daddy.  They chose to come with me.  We went out and had a good time.  Later I came back to check on him and my youngest.  That is when my husband told me that he heard what I said to the girls.  His response - "You finally get it."  I guess I did.  No arguments.  No anxiety.   I'm pretty sure this won't work all the time, but it felt good in the moment.

If March was a color..... it would have to be PURPLE.

So one thing I've learned is that I'm not so good about being consistant with writing my blog!  I can't beleive it is April.  And that means I missed the WHOLE month of March.  Shame on me!!  But I have stuff to share that I think is pretty exciting about March.   

March started out busy and hectic just like any other month.  My second born, an informal track star since she started walking (lol), started Track (for real) this month for the first time.  It has been interesting, because I think it may be the first time she has really taken an interest and inititive in a sport.   In the past when things got hard, tears would flow and she would loose interest.  Not this time, she keeps on trecking.  When it gets hard she figures out a way through it.  Thats my baby! :) 

Prince Concert in Greensboro, NC

Now the purple part of March.  My husband and I went to the Prince concert in Raleigh.  We were soo excited to be able to go and see Prince again in Raleigh.  We got floor seats.  I wore 4" heels so I could have a chance of seeing. I'm only 5' 3" with me stretching my neck up a bit.   But when we got to the RBC center and got our seats, we realized that our seats we actually BEHIND the stage.  Ughhh!!!  It turns out that Prince's stage has a little track in the back so he can show face to us and the others who had paid good money to "get close".  But honestly it didn't much matter.  We had a GREAT time.  Dancing in the isles along witht the other Drunk concert goers.  It was all good.  We all sang our hearts out, as if Prince himself would hear us individually.  And let me tell you that man struts his stuff all around the stage for two hours, heels and all.  So much fun.   After the concert, My husband and I said we wanted to do it again.  I can't remember which of us made the suggestion out loud, but the other was quick to agree that we HAD to go to the Greensboro show just four days later.  Crazy and impulsive are not exactly words used to describe my husband and I.   But I felt like for once in a looooong while we were living like a wild and crazy "single-couple" (That's my way of descibing a married couple with-out kids.)   I know its not really that wild and crazy, but that is about as wild and crazy as we get. 

What's a little Sushi between friends....

I adore my friend Twanda.  She and I have a lot in common.  One thing in particular is our openness to try new or different things.  Now I do realize that Sushi has probably been around for thousands of years, but for us it is a bit of a new experience.  I've had a little bit of sushi here and there, but mostly California rolls.  I believe that Twanda had just tried Sushi once before.  So the two of us sat down in this nice Sushi restaurant, a little dumbfounded.  We were looking at the menu unsure of what any of the terms, or ingredients were.  Because of this, our young patient waiter explained the answer to our obviously "newbie" questions.  Twanda and I take this all in stride.  We ordered three rolls the "Benbe, Philly and the Spicy Crab."  Despite our desire to order sushi that had the fish rolled up in it, we missed the fact the Philly had salmon laid on top.  So we inadvertently were a little more adventurous than planned.  I'll have to admit it wasn't horrible, but I think this was a "baby-step" or two ahead of our adventure game plan.  In addition to the Sushi, I tried warm Saki.  And I will have to tell you, it tasted like a bottle of Chardonnay left in the car and got hot.  That was not my favorite part of the evening.  What was my favorite part was sitting down with a good friend and laughing my tail off.  Can't wait to do it again!

3 girls, 3 heads of hair, 1 mom in tears

For any of you who have met my beautiful girls, you know that they all have very thick long hair.  Its this hair that drives me to the brink every weekend. Of my three girls, two are extremely tender headed.  This makes all involved absolutely miserable.  Washing hair usually means tears. LOTS of them.  I'm exhausted once I finished what inevitably takes 3-5 hours by time I finish.  And that is just my middle child's head.  I can usually finish the other two within thee hours each.    You may ask - How can it possibly take that long?  Glad you asked - Depending on the style it can take me an hour just unravel all of the braids.  Then comes washing and conditioning their natural hair.  This can take a while just because of how thick their hair is.  And over the years I realized that I can't just scrub their hair when I'm washing it.  I have to "rake" through it to keep the tangles down to a minimum. Once I washed and conditioned, then most of the time I cornrow their hair so that I don't have to do it again immediately.   But this only really works if you manage to complete a head every weekend with out fail.  When a head gets missed, the hair styles can get fuzzy and look bad. 

My Bright idea:  I'll take the girls to a salon to get their hair done and make my life a little easier.  The way this salon works is similar to an assembly line.  The place is huge.  It has 3 large rooms with stylists working on hair.  The main room is full of hair dryers - like twenty of them, maybe more.  Their idea is to cram in as many people in for a cheap price.  My niece had visited the shop a couple of months ago. It took them a while, but she left with a cute style and happy.  My girls on the other hand were dealing with a group of young ladies who have no concept of customer service.  The salon has no style books in it, so my girls were unsure of what styles they offered.  The stylist didn't offer any suggestions.  I tried to throw out some ideas, all they told me was what they couldn't do for their Natural hair.  One told me with a slight neck roll, that "I have kids and I know that wont work."  I see.  This experience is going to be needlessly more complicated than it needs to be.  I tell her fine  - just put the 4 year old in ponytails and call it a day.  The older two went off with directions to just blow dry the hair I would manage to "do the impossible" on my own.  I sit back a bit annoyed, but I take a deep breath, pull out my appendage (my iphone) and start to unwind a bit.

Crying:  Within two minutes I'm summoned into the other room where my 4 year old is screaming  and crying while the "neck-roller" continues to roll her neck and try to do my child's head. Bad combination. ( I want to note here that although tender headed, I have had my 4 yr old's her hair professionally braided by a woman who specializes in working with kids with NO problems, not one tear). We tried everything to get my now exhausted child to sit still while the neck-roller combs through her STILL DIRTY hair.  Unbelievable.  Dirty hair or not, I just wanted to have the neck-roller put my child hair in bows so that I could leave.  My child is screaming bloody murder.  I'm sweating, and feeling allllllll of the eyes on me from the 30 or so other patrons in the salon.  Finally I say enough, cry "uncle" and waive the white flag. In spite of the fact that my child's hair is in a lop-sided afro,  I limp up to the front (I'm still on crutches), I pay my bill and wait in the car for the other girls to finish.  Now that we are in the car.  My child starts crying for a new reason - she wants her hair done.  This is the point where I start crying.  Now both of us are in the car whimpering like 4 year olds - at least she has an excuse.