Wii

Yesterday I promised Jay that he could play a half an hour of Wii. I gave him a time, and kept him occupied by having him watch the clock. As time went along I suppose he got bored, and asked if he could get into the tub so that he could play with his sharks, and airplanes. As he was sitting there enjoying his toys he looked up at me, and asked what the time was, I responded with the time, and his reply to me was...'why do we have to keep using numbers, why can't I just play NOW?' I'm not sure why, but that made me laugh so hard that I got him out of the tub, and let him play, despite the fact that the numbers showed it was earlier than I'd initially said.
Oh well!

He's my boy, and every day I start my day with an agenda:

Raising Jay

'Thank You For Raising Such A Good Human Being'

'Thank you for raising such a good human being,' those were the words that I received today from Jay's teacher during parent teacher conferences.

I must say out of all the wonderful things she said about how academically sound he his, those words meant the most.



He's my boy, and every day I start my day with an agenda:

Raising Jay

MEASLES?!

Today Jay woke up sick with the Measles, but by noon he had some type of spontaneous recovery, because despite his body being covered in German Measles, he managed to play with his trains, to coax me into a game of ball, to play on the computer, to write his name one hundred times so that I'd say 'wow, that's awesome,' to put on his boxing gloves, and hit my hands until I just couldn't take it anymore, and to watch a half an hour of Nick Jr.


I know children aren't allowed to go to school with Measles, and hey I get it, but really...why not?  Did you read what he did today? Shouldn't they have some special class that the incredibly energetic children that are 'sick' can go?

Anyway Jay is sick...sort of !

He's my boy, and every day I start my day with an agenda:

Raising Jay

Raising Jay

Today I've decided to start a blog about raising my little black son - ALONE! 

By alone I mean with an ex-husband whose now remarried, and never sees our son; phone calls are the order of the day! 

By alone I mean with my mom who helps, loves, and offers support.

By alone I mean with my brother who financially keeps us able to do, go, see, and be. 

By alone I mean with my father who loves, and adores his grandson like he didn't know how to love his son. 

By alone I mean with my daughters who are thirteen, and nine years older, and behave like surrogate mommies. 

By alone I mean with my aunt who gives this tired mommy an occasional weekend to herself.

Okay...so maybe not alone, but alone in the traditional way that says there needs to be a mommy, daddy, siblings, cat, dog, fish, and the white picket fence that needs to be repaired, but debt is biting us in the butt, so it'll have to wait.

I often wonder what raising a child alone actually means because so far I have no clue!

Anyway, this blog will be about a divorced mom with a 4.5 year old black son who at the age of 41 is navigating doing it with no husband, or boyfriend, or prospects, dates, winks, or long dreamy stares...NOTHING!  A mommy who, while standing in the line at the grocery store wonders what all of these people think of this boy, the one they consistently talk to, the one who attracts the attention of old, young, black, white, other, tall, short, fat, and thin adults, who feel compelled to have a conversation with a boy who hides behind his mommies legs. 

He's my boy, and every day I start my day with an agenda:

RAISING JAY