Straddling the "big boy" line

The boys are at that age where they insist they are big boys -- about everything.

They want to do just about everything themselves, even when they really can't do it themselves. But of course we have to let them try.

Sometimes, they amaze us with their ability to do/think/accomplish things. Other times, we're reminded that they are still tiny little boys who were just babies a half a second ago.

And still other times, they expertly straddle the "big boy" line.

Last night, for example, I woke up from a dead sleep because Dean was in his bed, crying. He sounded so much like a baby, at first I thought it was Clair. I stumbled into his room, and asked what was wrong.

"I have to go peeeee-peeee," he wailed.

I escorted him into the bathroom, turned on the light, hoisted him up onto the toilet and stood back to wait. He looked up at me, disapprovingly, face swollen from sleep.

"Mommy," he said. "I need privacy."

So I waited patiently outside the bathroom door for him to finish peeing. It was 3:45 a.m.

When he was done, I walked him back into his room, and was greeted by a groggy Cary, saying he now had to go pee-pee, too.

I walked him in to the bathroom, hoisted him up, waited for him to finish, helped him pull up his pajamas, walked him back into the bedroom and attempted to tuck him in.

"No Mommy!" he said, way too loudly for 3:45 in the morning. "I don't need help!"

He pulled the comforter up around him and curled up on his pillow.

As I walked back to my room, all I could think was, "If you are such big boys, who need privacy but don't need my help, then WHY AM I AWAKE AT 3:45 IN THE MORNING HELPING YOU TO PEE???"

(Note: I also need to point out that this exact scene played out earlier in the night - around 10 p.m. - except Lester was the one who got shooed out of the bathroom by Dean for privacy's sake. And he had to physically carry Cary, like a baby, into the bathroom to allow him to pee. Ugh! These 3-year-olds! Babies/big boys? Who can tell?)

More sweetness

Yesterday, I came in from work a little late. The kids were already at the dinner table, eating.

Cary says to me, mouth full of pasta, "Mommy! I was worried about you!"

:-)


Later on, as I'm clearing the table, Dean walks over to me and asks, "Mommy, umm, did you have a good day?"

:-)


Love, love, love my sweet boys.

Words and sayings of Clair Davis

As this blog serves as my baby book, as much as it is my journal, photo album and record of Davis history, I thought I should get down Clair's vocabulary.

• Haaa - Hi
• Bah-bah or bye-bye  - Good-bye or good night
• TaychOO - Thank you
• Down - she says this one very clearly, and with gusto.
• Hup - Up
• Dee - Dean
• Dee - Cary
• Muh-muh or Muh-mee - Mama
• Da-da - Daddy
• Dop - Stop
• Doppt - Stop it
• Uh-oh!
• Guck - Stuck (this is a frequent one, as she is always getting herself stuck somewhere)
• Hot
• Code - cold
• Tit - Sit
• Teet - Feet
• Tep - Step
• Teeee - any letter of the alphabet she sees
• Tooo, Teee - attempting to "count" as she goes up the teps
• Boon - Balloon
• Bah - Ball
• Moos - Nose
• ...shhh - fish 
• Heyh - Hair
• Hmm - Here (handing someone something)
• poo-poo
• Coop -  scoop
• Kiiiiiick - kick
• Pop
• Pickbuu - Peek-a-boo!
• Heh - "Hey" as in the background "Hey!" in "Hey Bo Diddly"
• Kay - OK
• Buh-buu - Bubble

Most of the time, she speaks in an adorable gibberish that makes no sense to anyone but her. But her vocabulary is growing  enough now that we can  - most times - figure out what she wants or needs.

She also barks like a (small, yappy) dog, mooos like a cow, quacks like a duck, cheeps like a bird, oinks like a pig, baas like a sheep and growls like a dozen or so other indistinguishable animals.

In addition, as has been noted here before, she kicks, swats, yells, screams, shrieks, screeches, hits and is a veritable crazy woman. She teases her brothers mercilessly. She has a very defined proprietary sense (everything is hers). She laughs louder than she cries. She never, ever, ever backs down.

She is the most spunky, spirited, fight-for-what-she-wants child I have ever known.

I love her!

Edited: Tonight, she said her very first sentence! In the bathtub, Dean kept pouring water on her head. At first, she liked it, but she grew increasingly annoyed. Finally, she said. "Dop. Dop, Deee!"

Aww, my baby's first sentence!!

The rest of this T-shirt says "crazy child." OK, not really. But it should.

The sweetness of 3-year-olds

Once a month, Miss Teresa comes to our house to help me do a thorough cleaning. She has been coming to our house since a week or so before Cary and Dean were born, when I hired her to do the nesting I wanted to do but couldn't with my big, pregnant-with-twins belly. I thought then she'd be a one-time hire. As you can see, she's been with us for three years now.

Last month, for the first time ever, Miss Teresa had to cancel her scheduled cleaning. Her daughter texted me and told me that her grandfather, Miss Teresa's father, had died.

Miss Teresa came to our house yesterday. It was the first I'd seen her since he died. The sadness was palpable in the room. Her angular frame was slumped as she went quietly about her work. Her eyes looked tired.

As she finished up, we hugged and I told her -- as best I could, since she speaks limited English and I speak absolutely no Polish -- that I was so sorry about her Dad and that I would be praying for her. Miss Teresa, old enough to be my own mother, collapsed into me like a child would, and cried.

Her father was only 78, she said. Too young to die. It had been 9 years since she'd seen her "Daddy." And she wasn't able to afford a plane ticket on such short notice, so she missed his funeral. She was so sad.

Of course, I started crying too. We stood there in my living room, trying to understand one another's words, but succeeding more fully in understanding loss, regret and a father's love.

Cary and Dean were around - of course. They were mesmerized by this uncommon show of adult emotion.

Finally, after some time, Dean spoke up.

"Miss Teresa is sad?" he asked.

"Yes," I told him. "Miss Teresa's father died. She won't get to see him anymore and so she is sad."

"Miss Teresa's father died? Like Don Gato?" Dean said, referring to one of their favorite songs at the moment.

"Yes," I said. "Like Don Gato."

He sat and thought for awhile. He looked at Miss Teresa and smiled.

Then he tapped me on the leg and whispered.

"Our Daddy can come to her house," he said.

Miss Teresa coudn't understand him well enough to get that he was offering up to her his most precious gift - his own father.

But I did.

And I hugged my boy and loved him just a tiny bit more.

The Davis boys play it fair and make Mommy's heart swell

Scene 1
The kitchen, before dinner. Dean spies the apricots - immediately decides he is STARVING.

Dean: Mommy, can I have an apricot? I'm hungry.

Me: I'm fixing dinner now, so maybe we can have one after dinner.

Dean: OK, Cary can have one and I can have one.

Me: Sounds good. But what about Clair? Can Clair have one?

Dean: (Quiet...thinking) Mommy, Clairzee can't have one because there's only two.

Me: Hmmm. You're right. There are only two apricots. Hmmm. What are we going to do? There are three children (I count each child slowly) and only two apricots. Clair will be sad if she doesn't have one.

Dean: Mommy, I think you're going to have to split it.

Cary: Yeah, Mommy, you have to split them, and give me one and Dean one and Clair one.

Me: OK, I'll do that. I'll cut them in half, and give one to each of you. One for Dean, one for Clair, and one for Cary.

Cary: That's a GREAT idea, Mommy!

MOMMY'S HEART SWELLS TO SIZE OF SOCCER BALL.

Scene 2
After dinner, cutting the apricots and dividing them up.

Me: Well, look. There's one half left.What do you think we should do?

Dean: Mommy, you can have that one.

Me: Ohhh, thanks sweetie. But I have an idea. Since you are such big boys, I'll cut this one piece in half again and give a piece to you and a piece to Cary. That way you both have TWO pieces of apricot.

Dean: YAYYY!!! (Claps!)

Cary: We get two because we're big boys?

Me: Yes, I gave you two because you're big boys, and also because I love you.

Cary: Awwwww. Thanks, Mommy.

Me: HEART SWELLS TO THE SIZE OF A BASKETBALL.

(P.S. Being the crazy woman that I am, I also cannot help but take note of the fact that there were some subliminal math messages going on in this fairness conversation. My plot to turn my kids into software engineers/CFOs/venture capitalists is underway! Bwahahahaaa! Ah-hahahahaaa!)

Hear ye! Hear ye!

Cary now has bionic hearing!

OK, not really, but as of yesterday he does have tubes in his ears and the spaces behind his ear drums are finally fluid-free! Yay!

The surgery went exceptionally well. The procedure itself took like 10 minutes. It started at 7:30 a.m., and after recovering (with a Popsicle, the Disney channel and doting nurses fussing over him) Cary, Lester and I were home by 9:30.

The docs and nurses all told us that children usually wake up from the procedure screaming bloody murder, disoriented and grumpy.

Here's how Cary woke up.

He was quiet and curious and a little bored by the whole thing, actually. Then they turned on the cartoons, gave him a Popsicle, and he was in Heaven.

He kept asking, "But where's Dean's Popsicle?"

We go back in 3 weeks for a hearing test, but I can already tell that he hears things better. Yesterday, on the porch, a police helicopter hovered over our neighborhood (a regular occurrence, I'm afraid) and Cary said, "That helicopter is too loud!" Then, this morning, I turned the shower on and he said, "It's too loud!"

So we think the tubes have done the trick! If all's well, the doctor said they'll be in for a year. Not sure what happens after that, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Anywho, I'm glad we got this procedure done and over with. One fewer thing on the worry list to worry about. And also, please God let this mean no more AUGMENTIN. (Ugh! That stuff is the worst!)

In other news, my Mom came out to spend the night with us on Sunday so she could be with Clair and Dean while we were at the hospital with Cary.

She must've done this puzzle a thousand times. Bless her!

The boys adore her! They asked her to sleep in their beds with them,  repeatedly asked her not to leave, even asked her to "live here with us," and only wanted to be wherever she was in the house. Cary almost peed on himself once because he didn't want to go to the bathroom because, "Nana will leave in a second!" Only after we assured him that she was spending the night would he go.

And even Clair was happy to be with Nana! She allowed her to hold her and kiss her. She let Nana braid her hair! Instead of being clingy and whiny and afraid, she was her sweet, silly, jabbering self.

I was so happy for my Mom to see Clair this way. I wish she was able to come visit us more often, so she could get to know the real Clair a little more.

My baby girl is getting to be less baby and more girl. (Sadness!)

Cary and Clair both love Dean the best. Look how cute they are!

 Anyway, I'm back at work today -- so time to FOCUS!!

End of vacation blues

I've got the end of vacation blues. I'm back at home, in the searing heat of the city; there's laundry to do and grocery shopping and email to return. I'll have to start cooking tomorrow for the week, and there is not even the slightest hint of saltwater in the air. Saddest of all, Kohr Bros. does not have a frozen custard stand on every corner here. I don't know when I'll get another chocolate/vanilla swirl of love and goodness on a cone.

Maybe next year?

To help lift my sagging spirits, here are a few more photos of us on the beach. It really was an amazingly good time.

Beach bros. and their handsome Daddy. Cary was none too pleased about having to take more photos.

Clair LOVED this sand pit; we couldn't keep her out of it. There's still sand in her hair. There will probably be sand in her hair until Christmas. 

Ahoy, matie! Doesn't he have the cutest little impish grin?

Cary is so silly. This is what he did when I said, "Really smile."

My handsome, sweet Deanie. I can't tell you how much it warmed my heart to see how he cared for Clair while we were on our trip. At one point, on an amusement park ride, Dean reached behind himself and held on to the hem of Clair's dress the entire ride, because he said he thought she was going to be scared. Awwww. Such a sweetie.

Me and Cary, taking a stroll along the beach.  As we were walking, Cary said, "Let's keep going until we get to the end." Awww.

See allllll the sand in Clair's hair? That was not even half of it. 

Hello, favorite photo of the entire vacation. (No filter!)
We've discovered that our favorite time to go to the beach is between 5-ish and 8. We're not middle of the day beach people (too hot), and we can't get our acts together to get to the beach at 8 a.m.  So evening beach-going it is. It is so pretty at that time, and the water is calm, and the sand is cool. It's perfect.

And here we are., the senior Davises. No photos of the bottom half of me in a bathing suit are allowed until I get back into the realm of respectability.  Maybe next year?

P.S. Cary and Dean never did get in the water. Maybe next year?

So far, this trip is beachy

We are having a great time at the beach, eating seafood (us) and junk food (the kids and us), and sand (Clair).

 I am trying to be unplugged as much as possible while I'm here, but I'm determined to stay in the groove of blogging, lest I lose my mojo.

So, just to keep the home fires burning, I'm posting a few pics. A real re-cap will come post vacation.

Clair is the only one of my children who will even get close to the water.  She isn't quite diving in, but she wil sit with me and let the waves lap around her toes and legs.

I love Bethany because it is so clean and so quiet and perfect for families. At 9 a.m., we virtually had the beach to ourselves.

People keep asking us, "Are they triplets?" Seriously, people.  Why do you hate me?

We've been lounging a lot, napping, playing with floor puzzles, eating frozen custard (YUM!) and walking through town, even well past the kids' bedtimes. Lester and I have been watching back-to-back episodes of "Damages" on Netflix when the kids finally do CRASH (and I do mean crash) for the night, and we have to will ourselves to stop watching.

Later on today, we're going for a family bike ride, and later on this week we have plans to go to a water park, and to the kiddie fun park at Rehoboth Beach (where I intend to eat more frozen custard.)

Lots of fun. Lots of food. Lots of sun. Lots of relaxing.

So far, so good, vacation. So far, so good.

What happens when you decide to focus at work...

What happens when you decide to focus on actually doing your work at work?

Blogging suffers. (Also, Facebooking suffers, but I can do that at home when I'm supposed to be paying attention to my children.)

Anyway, I have had a lot of stuff on my plate at work, especially since I was off two days last week for the Fourth, and we're off all of next week for our family trip to the beach. (More on that later.)

So I have not had time to blog and I honestly feel guilty about that, because I want to make sure I'm getting down the things I think, feel and observe about my children's lives when I think, fell and observe them. I know too well that time makes memories misty and water-colored (thanks Barbra!) and I don't trust myself to get it right after too much time has passed.

But I gotta work. And I realized I was getting way too distracted by blogging and Facebooking and other important things -- list-making, etc. So I had to make a change. I intend to make this a real change, not just a temporary one, so until I find a way to work blogging in more regularly while still being more focused on work, I'm afraid this blog will be updated much less.

Meanwhile, we had a GREAT time over the 4-day weekend. We went to a friend-of-a-friend's pool twice, went to my Mom's house, rode the water taxi to Fort McHenry (hello, synapse checklist!), saw fireworks (Cary liked, Dean did not, Clair said "Pop!" each time they went off), enjoyed a strawberry pancake breakfast as a family, and just had a darn good time of togetherness and love and fun.

Can't wait for more of that during our WEEK (yikes!) at the beach! (More on that later.)

Before I get to the pictures from our fun holiday of togetherness, I have to inject here that Cary has an ear infection, of course, now that we are on our way to the beach. The good news is, this should not affect his surgery in any way. So yay! Hopefully, by 9 a.m. on the 22nd, Cary Glenn Davis will be able to hear normally. I'll keep you updated on that.

Also, I started getting sick on Sunday night (thanks to Stacey, who had been hacking behind me at work for a week) so on Monday I went and bought all the echinacea/zinc/vitamin C crap I could find and started pumping myself with it. (I am usually a skeptic about that kind of stuff, but I was willing to try anything to avoid being sick on vacation.) I would like to report that I am at 98-percent today -- just three days later. HOORAY!

I will definitely have to try that regimen again before I will be a true believer, but I can say that I WILL try it again. That's a good sign.

Now...photos!!

How cute are they all patriotic and whatnot?

Call me a cornball, but I love "themed" kids.

Here we are on the WATER TAXI! Technically, since the boys are still 3, this counts toward their synapse checklist. I've decided to extend it through their third year. Aren't I clever?

We took the boat to Fort McHenry, where we heard a cannon shot (scared the daylights out of the boys), and met these soldiers. It was 10,000 degrees on July 4. Their uniforms are wool. God help them.

The day after the 4th, we went and spent the day at Nana and Granddad's, where the boys splashed in a pool in the yard with their cousins for hours and had the best time. Clair still refuses to go to anyone but me and cries hysterically when people try to hold her, play with her or even speak to her. Sigh.

 I attempted to make an American Flag cake. It tasted better than it looks. Cary said, "American flag cake? That is so silly!"

And on Sunday morning, Lester made pancakes, with fresh strawberries on top. YUMMM. P.S. Clair can now feed herself with a spoon.

This is a scene from the EPIC pool party Stacey invited us to two days after the 4th. There's a brass band IN THE POOL. There was also delicious BBQ and cocktails. We visited this pool on the 4th, as well, without the band or the extra people, and it was still fun. Heated salt-water pool in my next life? Yes, please!

This girl did NOT want to get out of the water. She is totally my water baby.

See? Look how much fun we're having!

Meanwhile, these two scaredy-cats would only stay on this raft, which they called a "boat" and allow women (and Lester) to float them around while they hollered out commands. Typical.

We'll see how these kiddos do when we get to the beach. I predict Clair will love, until she gets knocked down by a wave, and the boys will do just slightly better than they did last year, when they refused to even get in the water.

About the beach: We leave on Saturday and I have done NOTHING to prepare. Not one thing. No packing. No shopping. No obsessive list-making. No weather-checking. Nothing.

See what happens when you're focused on work? Everything else takes a backseat.

One of these days, I'll get this work-life balance thing right. Until then, see ya when I see ya! I got work to do!

Xoxoxox.

Sometimes reading is helpful!

Those of you who have read this blog for any period of time know that far too often I read myself into a tizzy or a funk or a murky abyss of worry. No matter how horrible I feel after reading about all the bad things that can happen to children in life, I can't stop reading! In fact, I usually just seek out more worrisome stuff to read. It's like scratching an itch until it hurts, and then continuing to scratch. Am I the only one who does that?

Anyway, this is an affliction of my own doing, and I'm working on it (sorta).

But sometimes reading makes me feel better about things and not worse! (I love it when that happens!)

Like as I am skimming through my Ames developmental book "Your 3-Year-Old: Friend or Enemy" and come across this page:

SEE? Kids have "strong points and weak ones." And the better parents are at recognizing both, "the more effectively [we] can manage to see that much of the time [they are] successful." It's important that parents recognize the weaknesses in a kid "without giving him the feeling that he is not a good and valuable person, as you know he is."

Isn't that what I JUST said? Holy confirmation, Batman. I should be a writer of developmental books for kids!

I also loved it, and needed to hear it, when Auntie Louise (that's what I call her) said this:

She totally wrote that JUST for me. I needed someone to take that unreasonable pressure off of me -- and off of the kids, too. Thanks, Auntie Louise!

One other thing I loved about this book is that she repeatedly says throughout, "Your 3-year-old is not your enemy." She says it so many times, it makes me know that lots of parents feel that their 3-year-old has completely turned against them and all things good and holy. (LOL!) But really, she assures us, this is not the case.

Your 3-year-old is not your enemy, folks. Your 3-year-old is THREE.

(I have been reminding myself of this truth multiple times daily.)

Finding flaws in your children

When Lester and I were pre-parents, we did a lot of ad hoc interviewing of friends who had kids who seemed normal. We had a lot of questions. Most people had no answers. LOL.

Of the many questions we had, one thing we really wondered was how it was that some parents seemed to be so clueless about their kids' less-than-flattering personality or character traits. How could the mother of the town serial killer insist that her little boy would never hurt a fly? How do parents of bullies not know that their kids are bullies? How do parents say, "Oh she just got in with the wrong crowd," when everyone else in the world knows that your kid IS the wrong crowd?

Do you lose the ability to be a good judge of character when you become a parent? Is love for a child that blinding?

One thing we heard from friends about that is that it is OK to love your kids without idolizing them; it is OK to accept them for who they are without idealizing them. In other words, in order to be the best parent to a child, you must understand exactly who that child is, good and bad, for better or for worse.

And it is with that spirit that I write this post. 

Newsflash: My children have flaws. They are not perfect. They are human beings with good parts and bad parts. I think the good outweighs the bad by a huge, overwhelming quantity.  But...the fact is, these little people have some things about them that need some work.

Let's start with Clair.
She's still pretty new, but I can already see that this girl is SAUCY. She is constantly swatting at us, yelling at us and back-talking in her little gibberish. When you tell her to do something she doesn't want to do, she grunts "UNH!" or does a rude little raspberry thing that drives me bonkers. She is passionate about EVERYTHING, and not always in a good way. She is assertive with other children in a way that borders on aggressive. She is no delicate flower, that one, and can be ...I'll say it...a little bratty. I love her to pieces and she's smart as a whip, but right now she is in need of discipline. With the boys, we waited until about 18 months before we started doing super-quick time-outs, just to arrest undesirable behavior. Clair might not get to 18 months before we start that with her. Seriously.

The good news: All these not-so-nice traits (passion, energy, spunkiness, questioning authority) can be channeled for good, with time and patience and focused parenting. Which is why it is good that we are aware of this in her.

Next up, Dean.
My second-born has a deceptive streak. At the tender age of 3, he has already learned the art of sneakiness and has a talent for finding and exploiting the loopholes in what we think to be clearly-stated rules.
Just this week he told me that "Daddy said we can play in the Pack 'n Play," when I know he did not. And also that "It's OK to play in the Pack 'n Play because Daddy's not here." He also tells me "MiMi forgot to give us our vitamins today," when I can see in the Daily Log that vitamins were doled out with lunch. And he takes extra vitamins or candy, pops them in his mouth, and says, mouth full, "I only have two, see?" (showing the two he has in his hand...)
He blames Cary for all manner of offenses that he, himself, committed. He dramatically feigns tears, or "my tummy hurts" when trying to distract us from chastising him. His little brain is constantly churning: How do I get out of this? How do I get what I want? What adorable little pouty face do I have to make to turn the tide in my favor?
He is a TRIP.

The good news: We can see of course, that this kind of behavior is a form of cleverness, an attempt at outsmarting the powers-that-be. This kind of thing, if channeled correctly, could be useful to him in later years. As his parents, we can help Dean use his powers for good and not evil.
Which is why it is good that we are aware of this in him.

Last but not least, Cary.
This is the one that bothers me the most.
Clair is a baby - she's a soft piece of clay with lots of time for molding. And Dean's flaws, I think, are related to age, mostly. And honestly I think that some of his con-artist-like shenanigans really do signal just how bright he is (too damn bright, if you ask me).
But Cary's issues are more worrisome, because they seem more character-related.
My bookworm, very sweet and Elmo-voiced firstborn can be ... (sigh)... mean.
Not toddler "Mine! Mine!" mean. Not "I'm tired and I'm having a temper-tantrum" mean.
Just plain mean.
He exhibits these tendencies mostly with other children. He yells and speaks harshly. He says things like,  "Go in the house!" or "If you come over here I'm going to smack you." He told a little boy playing near them at the library this weekend, "You have to GO HOME!"
When the kids next door ask for a hug, he yells, "NO!" or says things far worse, such as "No, you're stinky!" I can now count at least three times when he has drawn either the tears or the ire of a child we just met, because of his sharp words and tone. In one case, at a playground, Cary ended up in a chokehold and Lester had to go rescue him. (Kinda serves him right, sad to say it.)
Cary also can be pretty brutal with Clair, which also hurts my feelings. He doesn't seem to have the same kind of tenderness with her that Dean does -- that innate realization that she is 1) a baby and 2) his baby sister. Seventy-five percent of the time, he is indifferent to her. But the other 25-percent, he snatches from her, teases her, refuses her just about anything she wants. He often blocks her from playing with them. He yells at her and causes her to lash out. (Clair, to be sure, gives as good as she gets. She can fend for herself, for the most part. But what kind of thing is that to say about siblings? Father God, I sure wish they'd play more harmoniously.)

I try to address this behavior every single time I see it. I even try, during moments when he is being quite pleasant, to hug him and say, Hey Cary, Mommy loves it when you're being such a kind brother or good friend ... or whatever. I've put him in time-out for really major infractions (throwing a friend's toy in the street, for example). And I've told him under no uncertain terms that if he can't be kind to his friends that he won't be allowed to play with them. I've modeled for him what "being nice" sounds like: "Hi. My name is Cary. Would you like to play?" "May I throw the Frisbee next?" Etc.
But so far...my boy is still kinda mean.

Needless to say, I don't like that at ALL. I can deal with a lot of behavior issues in kids, and I know that everybody has bad days and lash-out moments. But at the end of the day it is very important to me that my children are kind, gracious and loving people.

I know we exhibit goodness in our house -- we go overboard to show love and kindness and generosity not just to them but to other people. But still... I can't help but wonder if there's something we're doing wrong. Is it because I yell sometimes? (Yes, judgy-folks, I do yell sometimes.) Is it because we kept them at home and sheltered so long? Should we have separated the two boys in school so that Cary is forced to be friendly with other kids, and not just solely play with Dean (which is what he does)?

The good news: He is very protective of and good to Dean, his favorite person. And he is very affectionate with me and with his lovey and to little creepy-crawly things and with Nana and Granddad. So it just seems to me that he likes who he likes and has to be taught that he still has to outwardly show kindness, even when he doesn't feel like it.
I do believe we can get a handle on this (hopefully) with time, attention, love and focus.
Which is why -- again -- it's good that we're aware of it.

Anyway, I'd like to think that taking note of our children's less-than-admirable qualities will help us parent them as they grow and develop. So instead of worrying about these issues, or pathologizing them (as my friend Shreya, the child psychologist would say), we will simply address them.

We will address them with the recognition that my children are wonderful, amazing, awesome human beings who we are already so, so proud of. And we will address them always, always with 100-percent unconditional love. No matter what.

(P.S. I hope that Cary, Dean and Clair will go back through this blog and see where I have praised, gushed and oozed nothing but pure joy and pride about them 98 percent of the time.)

SCOTUS rulings roller-coaster

The hokey-pokey that the Supreme Court of the United States has done over the last two days is dizzying. 

One foot out for race-relations; one foot in for marriage equality. 

Although I am so, so happy for my gay friends who have fought so long for this -- and deserve it -- I can't help but wish SCOTUS would just put its "wholeself in" for true civil rights for all. 

That's what it's all about.

You put your gay citizens in; you put your black ones out...

I See a Queen

My sister found this picture on Instagram and sent it to me with the message, "This reminds me of Clair."

Self-perception is half the battle.

 I immediately fell in love with the photo. It says to me: Here is a little girl looking at herself, assessing, wondering, "Who am I?" And what she sees is Royalty. Specialness. A Queen.

I LOVE that! And I want it for Clair.

I assumed the art was a page in a beautifully-illustrated children's book. And I have been obsessed with finding this book, so I could read it to Clair, and so I could frame the page and put it on her wall.

Turns out it is not a book. (I found this out using Facebook. Again, I say that Facebook is awesome!) It is an oil painting by an artist, Frank Morrison. When I did a search for him, I was hoping he'd be some small-time talent, who would happily sell his creations to any gushing fan. But of course he would be somewhat famous...

From Frank Morrison's website:

Notable collections of Morrison’s art are owned by former New York City School Chancellor Rudy Crew, New Orleans Senator Gregory Tarver, renown actor/philanthropist Bill Cosby who prides himself on nurturing the talents of emerging African American artists, and Dr. Lorraine Hale among others. His work has enhanced the settings of televisions shows "Malcolm and Eddie", "New York Undercover", "Cosby" and has been a featured artist on the Home Shopping Network.

 

Morrison has received commissions from the irrepressible radio/TV commentator Tom Joyner, the Essence Music Festival in New Orleans, and executed serially mounted musical scenes for the compact discs "Impulsively Ellington: A Tribute to Duke Ellington. and Down-to-the-Bone’s "Crazy Vibes and Things". His artwork has been displayed in prestigious locales shows such as "The National Black Fine Arts Show" produced by Jocelyn Wainwright, at the Savacou Gallery in Manhattan, and was honored and given a one-man show at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture sponsored by ESSENCE ART and Toyota.

He earnestly declares that he is rendered speechless with pride when he finds his work displayed adjacent to and in conjunction with Romare Bearden originals.

Romare Bearden?? Bill Cosby? Sheesh. I doubt I could even afford this charming and poignant painting, I See a Queen, but I went to the site anyway to scope it out.

Sadly, the website says it is "SOLD."

I emailed the site and asked about whether this means I really and truly can't buy it. But I haven't heard back yet.

In the meantime, I asked a family friend (a wonderful artist who used to date my brother) whether she thought she could do something similar. But now I'm having second thoughts about that. It seems unethical somehow -- asking an artist to essentially "copy" another artist's work.

I'll have to really think about it - and pray about it - before pulling the trigger on that one (that is, if she even agrees to do it).

So I don't know if Clair will ever see this piece hanging proudly in her room, reminding her how special and uncommon she is, and to value and protect her self-worth.

Which is why I'm putting it here on this site. At the very least, one day she'll read this and know that when I look at her (with her little arms akimbo, just like that!) I truly do see a Queen.

UPDATE: Mr. Morrison WILL commission that painting for me -- for $1,500!!
Well...back to the drawing board (pun intended).

Tanika's Diamonique Jubilee (the recap in photos)

I capped off a month-long celebration of my 40th birthday this weekend at a local bar/restaurant.
I called it my "Diamonique Jubilee." (Kinda like the Queen's Diamond Jubilee, but without the flotilla.)

I'm going to share a gazillion photos of the night (which was SOOO much fun), but really, there's only one photo you really need to see to know what kind of shindig this was.

And here it is:

Holla!

Yes, future teenaged Davis children who will likely be embarrassed by my every move, no matter how mundane: That is your mother at 40 years old, in a bar with her shades on, holding a bottle of premium tequila - LIKE A BOSS!

(I can't be sure if this was before or after the shots that your grandmother made me do. But who cares? Right? )

Now those of you who were unable to make it, seeing that photo right there, aren't you sad you missed my Jubilee?It's OK. I'll do it again in 10 years.

For posterity's sake, here's a photo album of my Diamonique Jubilee - at Wit & Wisdom, a bar at The Four Seasons.

Wes and his beautiful lady friend, Danielle. I met Wes when I was working at the KC Star. He came to visit a fellow Star reporter. We very much disliked one another at first. But I won him over with my charm and awesomeness. Although we talk infrequently these days (thank God for gchat!), he is still one of my very best friends.

Andre, me and Jill! How stylish and gorgeous are my former Sun friends? Andre is a photographer who took my favorite photo at my wedding of me and Lester jumping the broom and whooping for joy! And Jill is basically the love of my life.

Me and my Mom, selfie. Who looks like twins? Us? Nooo.

David and his wife Stephanie. I met David when at the KC Star, too. He was working at Hallmark at the time and we went to church together. He also threw the best house parties! We became instant friends and he remains my boy even today. Trivia point: I had just come back from David's wedding in Aruba (to Stephanie) the day (or two) before my first date with Lester!

Mari, Rashod and Stacey. (Mari is married to Antwyne, Lester's good college buddy, and she is now in my bookclub and my Unbalanced Mommies group and has become a very good friend. Rashod is "Uncle Dusty" to my boys and is also a very, very good friend. And everybody knows who Stacey is. She's my boo. And Hugo's mom!)

We had just been with Antwyne and Mari earlier that day at a toddler festival, with our kids. It was all turtles and pony rides and humidity, but somehow they still looked equally as stylish and cool as they do in this picture. I hate them! I love them!

My two best guys ever, Lester and Dad. Dad's drinking Coca-Cola. He is such a lightweight.

Juanita and her husband Ron. I've known Juanita since middle school. She's wonderful and hysterical and the organized person I turn to when I need to find out someone's contact information, or figure out the tip on a restaurant bill.

Liz Bowie and her husband Dan Fesperman. Liz still works at The Sun, but Dan left to write super-successful spy novels. Liz is my inspiration. Great writer, great mom, looks way younger than she is! I need her secrets. As one of the best education writers in the country, she also is the person who I can most honestly talk to about all my "how-will-I-properly-educate-my-kids" woes.

Callie and Stephanie. Callie is the woman who I met when the boys were babies at Mother Goose on the Loose at our local library. Then we met again at a festival in our neighborhood. Her daughter, Spirit, and the boys love each other, so Callie and I knew we just had to be friends!

Zac and Andrea. Andrea still works at The Sun, where we met. She's one of my most loyal and dependable friends. Also, she has great clothes. And we share a love of food (especially chocolate).

Callie and her husband Gary. At the boys' birthday party last month, Stephanie and Callie got to talking. Turns out they're in the same sorority. Also turns out that Gary and David are in the same fraternity! And that Callie's brother went to the same small HBCU that David did. Now Gary, David, Stephanie and Callie are becoming friends. I feel like a matchmaker!

Jill, Laurie and John-John. Jill and Laurie are two of my very closest friends and both used to work at The Sun. John-John is the fashion writer at The Sun, following in my footsteps. Except he's waaay more fashionable. Check out the brooch!

At one point during my time at The Sun, I sat in a "pod" with these two amazing people, Rashod and Stephanie. Rashod "Uncle Dusty" Ollison is now an award-winning pop music critic at the Virginian Pilot. Stephanie is someone I admire greatly. She's a writer, an artist, a loyal and wonderful friend and is going to India on a Fulbright this fall! She's also one of the reasons I'm at The Hatcher Group. She's married to my boss, Tom, and recommended me to him. Now Tom's my friend, too!

David, Ron and Gary - three cool-looking black dudes. And, as proof that I have the most "equity among friends" of anyone you know, see the next photo...

Alec, Dan and Tom (my boss and friend) -- three cool-looking white dudes.

Mom and Dad, the greatest parents ever. How many people wanna party with their parents? Seriously. I am blessed!

Lester, Zac and Antwyne. Hotness!

Brent and Monique. Brent used to be a sports writer at The Sun. Then he left to get a degree in psychology, got married to Monique who was working at the Boston Globe at the time, and moved her to Baltimore, where she is now a top sports editor at The Sun. Full circle! Also, Brent and Monique's wedding is where Lester and I got our groove back two Memorial Days ago -- causing us to make Clair a week later. (Is that TMI?) Whatever...Brent and I also are very good friends. For a dude, he gives surprisingly good advice.

Renee and her boo Jordan. I met Renee because she was the one who started our bookclub (of which I'm hosting this weekend!) She now, coincidentally, works at City Hall, in the Mayor's office, and keeps tabs on Lester for me. (Just kidding. Sorta.) She is an amazing seamstress (she made that dress!!!) and a very good friend. She hung window coverings in my house when I first moved in. Came with her own drill and everything. I hate her! I love her!

Andre and Kelly. (Andre is married to Kat, not pictured, and Kelly is married to Mark, home with their pre-schooler and infant.) Can you believe that hot girl had a baby like 10 seconds ago? I hate her! No, I love her! She's one of my very, very best friends. She also has the best hair! Check out that Dominican blowout. I hate her!

My mother forced me to do tequila shots out of wine glasses. No kidding. This is why I couldn't drive myself home (thanks Monique and Brent for saving me!) I was fine until my MOTHER peer-pressured me into doing shots. Only in my life does this happen.

Group shot! Skinny-arm pose!

Monique, Laurie (who drove from North Carolina to come to the Jubilee) and me and my thigh.

The Four Seasons (where the restaurant/bar was) sent me this cake! I took two bites and my Dad came and commandeered the plate and scarfed the rest. Like he always does.

Just for laughs -- and to mortify my future teenaged children even more -- here is what happens after many drinks and two shots of tequila: Yes, Cary, Dean and Clair -- that is your Nana, your Auntie Kelly and your mother doing a drunk version of the Instagram bathroom selfie!

You can be appalled if you want to, kids. This night was FUN!

LOL! ROFL. LMAO. Etc...

Platinum Jubilee in 10 years, y'all! Be there or be square!