Tim Russert - A Political Medium RIP

It only makes me wonder about the future of serious political discourse in our media and how our children will receive it in their time of conscious political interest:

Bubbalicious and Baby Hubba Bubba

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Questions only a Bourgie Baby Would Ask...

Check out Funny Face Baby...I do believe those are the first inclinations of a Power Fist!

So, in a previous post, I pondered what type of questions a bourgie baby may ask of me one day...

Well, at least my child, anyway:

1. Mommy, why do you hate Flavor Flav so much?

2. Mama, will I be a glamazon with those big things like you got one day?

3. Why are we too cool for school but you make me go everyday?

4. Can I get my Ph.D. one day, too?

5. Why do the other kids hate on me for doing my work?

6. You got all these CDs...you are so ancient mom! When are you coming into the new era with us?

7. Who is Paul Laurence Dunbar and why did he keep caged birds?

8. Why does everybody want to be a basketball or football player?

9. What does Steve Harvey look like without a moustache?

I cut my hair and my baby still recognizes me

She is actually slobberingly enthusiastic to see me when I make it in at 6pm. Sometimes I feel like a part time mommy b/c i commute 2 hours (going and coming back) to get to my 8 hour + 1 hour lunch break job. By the time I get home, the sun is waning, the birds are chirping and twittering their evening songs, the gentle lull of primetime television induces fellow neighbors into a stupor until finally...it's off to bed.

In the three months, two weeks, and six days she has been here (Thanks Lilypie), my Noodle and I have been through some changes. She has doubled her weight and then some; her little afro rivals her mommies; she has filled out all her newborn clothes; she talks, babbles, slobbers, and plays - we got us a real live baby like on the t.v. Every morning, I sing her "Good Morning 2 U" song and she just eats it up. She has garnered more nicknames than I can remember that my hubbie complains she may not know what her name is. My Noodle, My Pearlie, My Cheese-n-Crackers, My Canoodler, My Drummy Tum, My Baby.

My changes seemed to be packaged with a sense of renewal and humiliation. I don't beleaguer over the small stuff like excessive spit-up (really, how can you measure the stuff...that's what I wonder when the doctor asks me, "Well, how much spit up is it?"), the ever changing BM, and those little bumps. Once I stopped mini-stressing over this stuff, I had more time to bond with my Noodle. I cut nearly 8 inches of my hair...I partly regretted it, but then, I feel relieved to not have to deal with all that hair. I'm so low maintenance that its a wonder I actually grew it out that much.

I"m not even sure I can call what I have a post-partum body. My weight is all over the place, but I have finally gotten to the point I can squeeze in some yoga and sit-ups (I can feel it!). There are other medical things going on so if you want to know more, you got to call or email me.

Other than that, I've been watching my little bourgie baby grow before my eyes on a daily basis. I damn near take pictures of her on a daily basis. I mean, just look at her:

My hubbie and I reminisce on when we could hold her in one hand and now she is a bubbling ball of baby brown...and those beautiful brown peepers she's got!

Ain't I the gushing mom.

Even though she's growing so fast and I'm cherishing every moment, I have to think about what she's going to be like when she's walking and talking. What type of questions would my bourgie baby ask me, I wonder...

No Babe in Arms

I recently traveled to Charleston, SC for the 71st Annual College Language Association Convention. Though it was enlightening, inspiring, and admirable to attend a convention of language and literature scholars from all over the nation and parts of the world, I couldn't help but to think of my babe left at home.

This is my first time being away from my baby since she was born. Even when I had her and during the recovery period after my traumatic c-section, I kept bothering the nursing staff to see my baby who was in observation in the nursery. They literally wheeled my entire hospital bed while I was still hooked up to machines and drips and whatnot, and saw my baby through the nursery window.

With each day approaching, it became harder and harder to imagine a day, hell 4 days without seeing and holding my baby! Ugh!!! The day that I was supposed to leave, I stopped by her daycare to say goodbye and I just held her, and weeped, and changed her poopy diaper while her daycare teachers just looked on and tried to be supportive. I was an emotional wreck...After an hour of that, I had to go to my mama's house to get a pep talk because I was just crying and snot running and everything.

Of course, a few miles couldn't keep me away. I called when I landed in Atlanta, I called again when I landed in Charleston, I called again when I checked into the hotel, I called again before her usual bedtime, and I called again to make sure she went off to sleep even though I wasn't there. I asked things like,
"You got her laying next to my pillow in the bed?"

"Did she eat OK?"

"Is she looking for me?" "No," says my husband. "Well, at least lie to me and say she did, geez!" My heart slowly breaking when he told me this unfortunate bit of news. "Oh babe, I'm sorry, she was looking for her mommy. She misses you!" Good save, Dad. Here's a picture he sent to me of my first night away and how she finally went to sleep. I almost cried!

But this trip has taught me several things about motherhood/parenthood:
1. I absolutely have a new found appreciation and respect for parents who travel with kids, especially those with more than one. Wow! How do you do it?
2. Next trip I'm flying, I will be traveling with babe in arms.
3. There are a lot of compromises you must make as a mommy on the career track. Though sometimes you will have to leave your babes behind, you must always do your best to let your kids know that you love and miss them with all your heart.

This was such a new feeling for me. But the best part must have been when Daddy let me talk to my babe on speakerphone and he told me, "Oh my goodness, she is smiling and looking all across the room looking to see where your voice is coming from." That must be some attestation to some good mothering!

Random things I saw and heard while away:

*"Ladies and Gentleman, this board is older than I am so the flight that appears on there does not exist."

*Seconds before taking off and stopping abruptly: "This is the captain...A light just came on that I'm not happy with so I am going to stop this plane and get in touch with maintenance."

*Brown eggs. Baby chicks. Worms.

*My husband and I singing over the phone, "Cheesy Noodle Casserole. MMM-MM-MMMMM. Possibilities!"

One of the highlights of the trip was spending my institutions own money on food. I felt like Rachel Ray on 40 Dollars a Day, but I had 11 extra dollars. What great food to be had in Charleston.

Obama's Riding High

Having a little bourgie chickadee of my own has made me want to garner some hope for her future, because the current state of affairs makes me depressed, forlorn, disappointed in what our children are offering up to the world and what we are leaving behind for them...They do not deserve a salvage future unless they must possess the audacity of hope to want to make that change. Check out this great speech of Obama in Philly today (3/18/08) in where he addresses the race issue in the campaign and the issues with his pastor's comments. Truly impressive speech:

Here's the link to the full transcript.

This has to be the funniest short I've seen about Obama. Hilarious and witty and smart! I'm sure Obama had a giggle about this.

I stay woke

Been listening to the new Erykah Badu, finally...folks were trippin if you hadn't bought it on the day it came out...sorry, Black folks work 40 hours a week and we live for the weekend.

So, what if there were no niggas, just "master teachers"? Would we be telling everybody what to do? Some people may take it there, but, I stay woke, too, Silly E. Badu. Keep your third eye open.

Anywho, me and Super Noodle been building together. We've been working out the gas and spit up issues (she's so gross!) but I must say, this kid is reflecting my light. Check her out watching CNN this morning:

Look at the intense brow line...this little sister is critically engaged despite the spin.

But our nights are getting better. Me and Daddy are so happy that she's sleeping in 4-4.5 hour stretches. Folks with kids know that is huge! Finally, I can finish a sleep cycle.

Took her to see her granny and great granny and great aunts last night...how they gush over her! The elder women of my family amaze me. They badger me and Dad about spoiling her but at the first site of her stirring from her nap in her car seat, they were eager to scoop her up and brag on all the things her infantile body can do:

Chile, look at how she hold that head up!

That gal know she can squirm...

Look at her going back to sleep...she know she knocked out like somebody clucked her upside the head.

That's my bourgie baby.