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Parenting Human Literacy #1: New Mommy!

26/8/2015

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Human Literacy is the process of learning and practicing how to be human while learning and relearning how to recognize the humanity of others. The process of becoming literate of humanity makes it impossible to negate anyone's humanity without the expectation of dire consequences (my working definition).
  • I am sharing my parenting escapades because many people have been amused by them, while others have suggested I share them with the world - or those few people who happen across this Blog.
  • I begin this (hopefully) regular sharing by telling you, the reader, that nothing I share is guaranteed to work. My parenting actions were mostly reactions to my children. I spent my time trying to ebb their flow, while ensuring thoughtfulness on everyone's part. 
  • My first advice is to remain calm (as calm as the reality of the situation allows because, yes, I did slap someone once - but that's a teen story and these entries focus on the lovely early childhood - pre-teen days of parenting humany literacy).

Number 1

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It was a lovely day. My daughters were with me at home, and memory says it was a Saturday because there was no sense of rush - I had time to think about what the child said to me and react with genius, even though I was beyond irritated...

The child disagreed with something I'd done by yelling, "I want a new mommy!"


First, I recognized that I was bigger than she was and thought her fierce bravery for stepping to me that way. I admired her "umph" and new she either wanted to hurt my feeling (I only have one) or a new mommy (in her childish ignorance). I decided, it was a little of both and came at her with all the might my imagination could muster.

"Okay," I told her. "Go get your Buzz Lightyear suitcase because you'll need to move when you new mommy comes to get you." 

Not phased, she went to her room for her little tattered suitcase; I knew the fight was on and I would win or she'd have a new mommy.

When she came back down the hall with her empty suitcase, I had the newspaper opened to the classifieds section. I calmly explained the process... "When people want something new, they look it up in the classifieds in the newspaper. See, here is where you can buy new cars, and, here, new houses. Now I know there is a section for new mommies somewhere."

When I saw her eyebrows raise and her usually almond shaped eyes (she gets those from her father) grow wide, I knew I was winning. I could have stopped there, but I didn't.

"Look, I'll keep looking in the paper and you should go pack. Now, remember, once you get a new mommy you cannot come back to the old one. It's sad because I really love you and will miss you. Your dad and sister will miss you too. That's how it goes when you get a new mommy. 

Her walk back to her room didn't have as much pep.

After awhile, I yelled, "Are you packed? I think I see a few new mommies. Come look at this one. She sounds nice. Way nicer than me." When I got no answer, I took the paper in to show her the mommies I'd found.

I found her with an open but empty suitcase. Yes, I could have stopped there, but I didn't.

"Why haven't you packed anything? Don't you want to take...." I listed a bunch of things she should take along with her. I'm not sure if I actually but items into her suitcase before she started crying: "I don't want a new mommy!!!"

Yes, I could have stopped there, but I didn't. 

"I don't want you to have a new mommy. I like being your mommy. We do lots a fun things together don't we?" 

"Yeah" she sniffed.

"Really? Like what?" I ask. This is where we come back together and talk about what we like to do with each other, daddy, her sister, family, and friends.

"Just because we love each other and fun doesn't mean we like each other all the time. When we don't like each, it doesn't mean you can get a new mommy or I can get a new daughter. We have to figure it out."

Okay. That's most of what I remember and it was probably my oldest child because the younger one waits for her sister to take the lead on getting in my face.


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NOTES:
  • This parenting reaction works best on beginning readers.
  • Yes, I was prepared to find someone to stand as a "new" mommy.
  • My friends know - it takes a village to raise a child - and my request to find someone to pose a "new" mommy would only briefly surprise them.
  • Since newspapers are pretty much gone, you'll have adapt this for the online - which is cool because you could create a whole fake online shopping site for "new" mommies!
  • This whole deal took a couple of hours to get through!

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If I Believed in Spirits

22/8/2015

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If I believed in spirits, they wouldn’t haunt me. My spirits would surprise me with memories that overtake emotions and senses like unexpected smells, sounds, or images that spring up coincidentally in everyday living. 


If my mother were a spirit, she’d lure me to a friend’s home under the pretense of purchasing an old bike because that friend was moving out of town to work at her Dream Job and needs to get rid of her things quickly.



If my mother were a spirit, she’d make that friend’s name Amy. She would not have to do much to ensure my schedule was so hectic that getting Amy’s home would be a routine challenge, which would never lead me to expect I was going to be surprised (not haunted) by a spirit.

If my mother were a spirit, the day I arranged to pick up the bike, I’d be 40-minutes late and go to the wrong house. After a few text exchanges with Amy and complaints about how one street can be both NW and NE, my husband would see my growing frustration and offer to drive.

If my mother were a spirit, she’d make sure Amy had cute vintage suitcases and a travel case on her porch marked for donation.

If my mother were a spirit, she’d know I’d ask about them because I like odd items.

If my mother were a spirit, she’d have Amy say, “If you want them just take them. I have a few other cases on the side of the house. Want to see them?”

If my mother were a spirit, she’d have me say, “Yeah, I want to see them. The girls might like to have one too.”

Amy and I would walk down the stairs of her enclosed porch and onto the sidewalk, and, then around to her driveway where the other two travel cases were sitting.

The essence of every moment I’d ever experienced being Mutasha’s daughter swept across my soul and filled my eyes with tears of humble gratitude and thankfulness the instant I saw the green and tan travel case.

My mother had this exact travel case. She filled it with many items of personal value; I rummaged through it, often without permission. It smelled of Wind Song perfume.

If I believed in spirits, my mother would be a spirit and she would bring me the gift of a green and tan travel case. When I opened that case, I’d find these words inside it and wonder what more she wants to tell me. 


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