The Parenting Post feed

The Joys (and Pains!) of Kinky, Curly Black Girl Hair

My Brown Baby — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 16:46:21 -0500

The torture usually came on Saturday evenings, in the kitchen. I’d be sitting on a stack of thick yellow phone books and a pillow, squished between my mother’s knees; she’d be perched on the hard wooden kitchen chair, bent over and leaning in at some ungodly angle, trying hard to tame the kinky curls at the nape of my neck with gobs of thick grease and a scorching hot comb.

I have no idea. Do you?

Mighty Maggie — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 11:01:38 -0500

I'm not a very observant mom. Actually, a better way to put that is: I am not observant AT ALL. I'm rarely the first person to notice if one of my kids has a bump or a scratch, and when I'm in the throes of dealing with a whiny, unhappy kid, it hardly ever occurs to me that he might not be feeling well. I'm much more apt to assume he's just being a brat. I know, I know. That's, like, forty Mom Demerits.

A Note to the Halloween Witch

Daring Young Mom — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 13:19:46 -0500

For the last two years we’ve adopted the tradition of sacrificing our sugary goods to earn the good graces and fabulous gifts of the Halloween Witch. She flies through the night sky two days after Halloween, collecting all treats that have not yet been consumed by the children of the land to add to her sticky, sugary, tooth-destroying stash. In return for these leftover treats, she leaves a toy for each child who gives up his or her candy completely.

Forty Is Not the New Thirty. Thankfully!

Mommy Needs Coffee — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 12:03:18 -0500

First, let me thank you for all of your sweet words and concern for my daughter. She is not back to one hundred percent health yet, but they felt she was healing enough to avoid putting her through too many tests that may or may not find answers when they see her on the upswing. She is still fatigued and suffers from headaches but we are keeping a close eye on her. Thank you for the kindness you showed me after my last post. It means a lot to me!

Hello. My name is Denene Millner, and I’m a screamer.

My Brown Baby — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 13:43:04 -0400

I don’t mean to holler and yell like a banshee when my kids get out of line. It just, like, happens.

Usually, I yell after I’ve asked them nicely five times to do something -- like move their crap off the kitchen table or straighten up their rooms or go to sleep already because it’s 10:30 p.m. and I put you in your bed two hours ago and I’m tired, dammit, and I want to give your father some so that I can pass out from exhaustion.

The floors would be shinier if someone else cleaned them.

Mighty Maggie — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 12:44:48 -0400

This week I will let a strange man into my house when my husband isn't home. I will greet him with heaps upon heaps of kisses and shouts of delight because he will be bearing gifts of mops and sponges and environmentally-friendly cleaning supplies. He is coming over to CLEAN MY HOUSE.

Glad I’m Not a Celebrity Mom

Daring Young Mom — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 14:48:14 -0400

I shop at the grocery store, so I have lots of time to contemplate what my life would be like if I were a celebrity mom. I’ve decided I’m against it, and I will tell you why.

Beauty Is Me

My Brown Baby — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 11:12:44 -0400

It’s not that I hated how I looked, really. It’s just that after a while, it was hard to be judged, and not start co-signing the judgments. Maybe my skin was a little too dark. My hair a little too kinky. My affinity for books and dolls and sewing a little too nerdy. My butt and hips a little too big for a kid my age.

I wasn’t perfect.

Wear Your Mommy Pride!

Mighty Maggie — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 16:58:25 -0400

The Bunker

Daring Young Mom — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 11:06:05 -0400

Laylee’s always making plans. She wants to build things or have Santa or Dad build them. When she describes these plans to me, they usually involve building a house similar to our own only smaller and just for her. Depending on her mood she’ll either want the house outside in the backyard to serve as a clubhouse, over her bed to ensure she never need sleep again at bedtime, out front so she can sell her baked goods out the front window, or in the family room in front of the TV.