I always said that I would not be the kind of parent to take my young child to see a movie that was/is too mature for her let alone to an evening movie. I always thought it was a sign of irresponsible parenting. Granted, I usually witnessed parents lugging their young ones to bloody movies like “Gladiator” and “Underworld,” so my reaction was based on that experience.

But then we became parents and started homeschooling. We have been blessed with an empathetic young girl who is an old soul with a unique, albeit simplistic, understanding of the complexities of the world. And she love superheroes. She is a big fan of Spiderman, Captain America, She-Ra, He-Man, and Superman. She is fascinated by Batman (although we’ve agreed that he is a hero but not a superhero because he does not have superpowers), thinks the Joker is silly and bad, confused by Catwoman, and wants to fight the good fight. We watch all of the old cartoon on Netflix and borrow comic books and graphic novels from the library. In fact, her sixth birthday party was superhero-themed complete with homemade capes and Ironman paper plates.

Now I admit that we share a connection over this love because I am a bit of a superhero buff. So, the hubs and I made the decision to see The Avengers and after skimming some online reviews on different parenting sites, agreed that The Tornado would love it as well. Tonight, we went to see The Avengers and I am SO happy that we did. Here’s why:

(1) It was a strong storyline, high-brow humor, and classic comedic timing. The movie was written and directed by Joss Whedon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: The Complete Series fame. He does not dumb down his dialogue and has a unique ability to keep the tone of his projects consistent and witty. This movie is proof that storytelling is an art form and that true comedy is not cursing or degrading someone.

(2) There was a strong female character. Scarlett Johansson’s character The Black Widow was beautiful and sensual. But those were only a few of her assets. She was strong, brave, a skilled fighter, and smart. She was respected amongst her peers and held her own in the testosterone-driven movie. Oh, and there is no gratuitous nudity and no ill-fitted (yes, I mean FITTED) love scene that hinders the momentum of this movie.

(3)There was a strong non-stereotypical Black-male lead. While I am not always a fan of Samuel L. Jackson’s choice of roles, I am so happy that he took this one. Nick Fury was intelligent, respected, strong, a leader, not ghetto, and a positive example of Black men. My daughter is not used to seeing Black men of this caliber regularly, so this was refreshing.

(4)There was a diverse group of people who were forced to work together. The Avengers are made up of one of the most diverse groups of characters (although a Black woman would have been a great addition) not only in their backgrounds but in the looks, intelligence, and skills. And while they have a difficult time accepting each other at first, they learn to work together to defeat a common enemy and in the process they learn to respect each other and their contributions to the overall machine!

(5)It showed the importance of maintaining emotional control. The Hulk’s first appearance in the movie scared her. She hid behind my arm and I had to talk her through his change and total loss of control. She was really scared but I used it as an opportunity to remind her that we all lose control sometimes and that Hulk was an exaggerated version of us all. But then an incredible thing happened. She saw that it was possible to control your emotions and think clearly so that you get the job done. For a six-year-old this lesson is so important. It is a lesson that we have been struggling with teaching it and living it at times.

(6)It showed the massive size of the universe. Andrew and I have always believed that the downfall of humans is thinking that we are the keepers of the universe. We are raising her to understand that the universe is too big and too unknown not to explore that possibilities of life elsewhere. We have taught her that there are endless possibilities when it comes to life on other planets and that no one can possibly know that if that life exists. This movie shows that we can never know what is out there and that good and bad comes in many different forms and from many different places.

(7)It showed that family dynamics are complicated and not always perfect. I come from a very imperfect family. My mom and I don’t speak and I pretty much only see my extended family at funerals. My oldest sister is no longer alive and I am estranged from her children. My remaining sister in far away and my in-laws have become my surrogate family.

(7)It showed that we are stronger than we think. Life isn’t easy. Problems arise and sometimes the solution is challenging and requires that we do more than what we think is our share- more than what we think we are capable of doing/giving. But we are stronger than we imagine and have more power than we know.

So there you have it. The Avengers have so many invaluable lessons that more children need to see. It was a really good movie and if you believe that your child will enjoy it, go ahead and see it. You won’t regret it! And I won’t judge you!

You have the ability to make even the grumpiest little elf smile. You have lived through so much so far- death, illness, two moves (and an impending third), and my never-ending battle with depression, yet your spirit and compassion has been a light in the darkest of tunnels for so many. And while I have tried so hard to shield you from the harshness of the world, you have managed to prove to me that there is nothing you cannot conquer. Of all of the things you have inherited from your dad and me, it is strength that I think we were happiest to give.

Peanut, six years have passed us by so fast and we know too well that time is beyond our control. But as we enter into your sixth year of life, I promise to enjoy the days that we have ahead of us. It’s true that I will miss your baby and toddler years, but I look forward to every new stage that you’ve yet to discover. Know that you have completed us – me – in a way that escapes words. Know that these have been the best six years of my life so far.

Thank you for being you!

Click here to view these pictures larger

 Tuesday, April 25, 2006

We went to Dr. Shaw’s office to have the first of our bi-weekly Non-stress Test(NST) and to check my amniotic fluid level as I thought my water broke a few days back but was in the shower and unsure. While there was some concern about the levels previously, it was determined that all was well. My levels were 11 cm(?) as of Tuesday April 18. This was supposed to be just an office visit, but Mya had other plans.

Mya sounded great on Tuesday. Her heart rate was strong but the nurse had a little difficulty actually tracking it for a long period of time. Mya was moving around a lot and kicking like crazy. However, when Dr. Shaw checked my fluid levels by ultrasound, he became a little concerned. It was low, but because I was a plus-size pregnant woman, he had difficult seeing much on his machine. To be safe, he sent me to the hospital to have a NST and an ultrasound done there. They would be more accurate and we would know if there was cause to worry or not.

We arrived at the hospital at around noon and had the NST. Everything was great. She had three peaks as she should have, and her movement was consistent. Unfortunately, I could not go to ultrasound right away as they were backed up. And, because I had gestational diabetes, Meg, the nurse was concerned about my blood sugar being too low. So, she sent us to lunch and told us to be back in an hour.

Andrew and I went to Pizzeria Uno’s ate lunch (I should have known that she was coming soon because for the first time in MONTHS I was able to eat and enjoy my food!) and returned to the hospital for the ultrasound. The tech performed a very thorough scan and told us that all of Mya’s organs were working well. He did say that the amniotic fluid was very low- 5.6 cm(?) at that point. He consulted the doctor and sent us back to labor and delivery. We knew that there was a possibility that I would have to be induced, but at this point nothing was certain.

Dr. Khoury, a partner at my OB’s, was on call. He informed us that I would have to be admitted and placed on IV’s of a Gatorade type liquid in hopes of increasing my fluid levels. I was admitted to the Antepartum unit of the hospital at 3:30 pm on April 25. It took six hours to get a bed in Maternity. Andrew went to work.

It was a long night. I was given 4-5 bags of fluids and had difficulty sleeping because it was too hot. My nurse was a witch with a capital “B” and refused to listen to me when I told her that something was wrong. She kept telling me that it was my hormones and at times even ignored me. I was fuming. I called Andrew to complain and then cried myself into a very weak sleep.

WED APRIL 26, 2006

Somehow I made it through the night and ate breakfast at 7:00 am. At 8:30 am I was wheeled back to ultrasound to check my fluids again.

3-4 cm(?). WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

Dr. Bravaro, another partner at my OB’s, told me that I would have to be induced. There were too many things that could go wrong. Mya was at risk for an infection and we needed to move quickly. She checked my cervix and it was soft but not dilated. Later that evening she inserted Cervadil (a shoestring like object with a hormone to ripen my cervix) into me and told me that I would be ready in about 12 hours. Andrew and I decided to get one of the private Labor, Delivery, Recovery, and Postpartum rooms so that I would be more comfortable and he or my mom could stay with me. I sent Andrew home so that he could get SOME sleep because he had only gotten 2 hours in the last 36.

Well, true to form, the meds worked quickly on me. By 10:00 pm I was having pretty intense contractions. I called the nurse and she told me that there was no way that I could be in labor that quickly. But I was. The contractions were coming every 5-7 minutes and they were lasting for almost 2 minutes. I was in pain. The nurses were not listening to me and I couldn’t fight. I was tired and in pain. Finally, I stood up to go to the bathroom and my water broke. There was no denying it now. I was in labor. I called Andrew and told him and then told the nurses.

THURS April 27, 2006

OK, so everything after this is kind of sketchy, but I will try to recant it as accurately as possible.

12:30 AM-6:00 AM: Dr. Bravaro checks my cervix. I am roughly 2cms but contractions are coming hard and fast. They start me on Pitocin (I think this is when they did that) and antibiotics (group beta strep +). I’m in pain. There is a sharp shooting pain in my pelvis and I am shaking. Sometime after they give me Staidol to relax me and to help me deal with the pain. Within 2 minutes I am spacey and apparently laughing hysterically for an hour.

6:00 AM – 12:00 PM: I am in and out of sleep. My contractions are even stronger and coming in pairs (two then none, two then none). They are about 2-4 minutes apart. Nurses still don’t believe that they are that strong as they are not showing n the monitor but they are in m back. They are starting to piss me off. Andrew is GREAT though. He helps me breathe and he tries to calm me. Mya’s head is pushing against my cervix and it hurts.

Lucy, the CNM at my O’s office, comes in and applies acupuncture to my hand and shoulder to help the pain. It works great, but now the contractions are so strong. They are coming 1-2 mins apart. No one checks my cervix and when I beg for an epidural, they tell me not now. Lucy tells me to take a warm shower to help relax my muscles. It works. She is fighting with the nurses but they are not listening. She is annoyed.

12:00 PM – 2:30 PM: Dr. Shaw (MY OB) is there. So is my Mom. I’m not sure when they got there, but I saw them and I felt better. Dr. Shaw checks my cervix (he is upset that the nurses had not been checking me and that they are being dismissive to my midwife) and I am 7 cm. He rushes to get me an epidural. THANK GOD!!!!

The Anesthesiologist, Dr. SavedMyLife, does my epidural and despite the intensity of my contractions, I manage not to move. It goes really well and quickly and relief comes before I know it. I dose off (as I do after any pain meds are given to me) for a little while and awake to breathe through contractions. Dr. Shaw checks me again, but no progress. I am still 7cms. But there is a problem. Mya’s heart rate is high and it hasn’t recovered with the contraction and I have a fever. Dr. Shaw is concerned that she has an infection and decides that she has to come out now. We don’t know how long I was losing fluid and it’s just too risky to wait. I understand and while I was asking for a c-section, I did not really want one. I’m crying and nervous because Mya could be in trouble. Things are getting really scary. But Dr. Shaw does not push c-sections either so I know if he wants to do one he is worried.

2:30 PM -3:21 PM: I’m given more meds by epidural to numb me for the surgery. My mom kisses me on the forehead. In a matter of minutes I am whisked to the ER and Andrew is taken to scrub up and be dressed. Things are moving so fast now. There are a lot of doctors in the OR including Dr. Hailey the Neonatologist. He informs us that he will take Mya as soon as she is born and check her. I’m in and out of sleep and not really sure what is going one.

After what seems like seconds, I hear her. Mya’s cry. It is like music to my ears. She is alive and breathing and from what I can see kicking like crazy. She has a huge head of hair and is very WHITE. I’m trying to watch, but I’m sleepy. Andrew screams, “she has my toe gap,” and I start laughing. It’s true. She has her father’s toe gap!!!!

April 27 2006
3:21 PM
5 lbs 15 oz
18 inches long

Andrew holds her and we cry. The nurses bring her to me to kiss and see. I’m so happy and I want to hold her, but I understand that she has to be treated for infection and her breathing is wrong. Dr. Hailey tells me that she will be in NICU and that Andrew can go with her. I’m relieved that her Daddy will be there.

Dr. Shaw closes my incision and tells me that Mya was stuck. My fibroid was preventing her from descending down the birth canal and that is what was causing the sharp pain. He says that the c-section went well and that all will be fine. I know they will be because I trust him 100%.

I’m wheeled into recovery and I sleep for a bit. After two hours I am allowed to see Mya, but I cannot hold her yet. She is in NICU and placed on CPAP to help her breathe and antibiotics to fight infection. I cry. I want to hold her, but it is not possible.
I’m taken back to my room where I sleep for a few hours. My mom wants to stay with me to ensure that the nurses do their jobs (she is a retired RN) and so that Andrew can go home and get some sleep. He is exhausted and the next few days will be tough for him.

image found at Seekers Portal

I often think I should write a guidebook to give to people before allowing them into my life. It’s not that I am difficult to handle or deal with but rather that I am tired of having to explain to people why I am cutting them off. My husband often tells me that I am too nice. I used to think that it was impossible to be too nice, but after realizing how much crap I put up with from various people, I now know that too nice is a very good description of who I have become. Maybe I feel guilt because I was a mean person in my youth or maybe there is a part of me that wants to have faith in the goodness of humanity. Whatever the reason, I have come to a point in my life where I no longer want to deal with false-friends and wolves in sheep clothing. So I purge my life of those people quite often. Sometimes that purge is quick but other times it’s slow and takes too long. Either way the end result is the same.

Anyway, what would be in my guidebook?

• Don’t agree to do stuff if you have no intention of following through or doing your best. Saying “no” shows that you respect me and our relationship.
• I don’t look backwards in longing just in reflection. I don’t want to relive any of my youth or yester-year. I learn what I can from the past and work on making the present as good as I can.
• I spent my youth making up stories. I’ve spent my adult life telling the truth. So, don’t ask questions that you don’t want to know the answers to. I am horrible at telling people what they want to hear.
• Generally, my bark is worse than my bite. However, if I am at the point that I want to do more than bark, watch out!
• If I decide to cut you off, it’s over! Over!
• Be there for me when I need you and even when I don’t because I will be there for you!
• Never mistake my niceness for weakness. You’ll be rudely surprised.
• I know what motivates people better than I know what motivates myself. I can read you like an open book so when it comes down to it, nothing you do will surprise me. You don’t fool me; at times, I choose to ignore the obvious.
• Don’t.Mess.With.My.Family.
• I am not in competition with you. Ever. I don’t want what you have and I don’t compare myself to you or my life to yours. If you do, that is your problem. And if you do, know that I will ALWAYS be better than you because I am living my life and you are living in fantasy.
• I’m opinionated and I love a good debate. Just know that I remember pretty much everything I read, see, and hear. And I will throw it back at you if needed.
• “I’m sorry” is a salve in my world.
• Don’t yell at me. I shut down. My silent anger is the one that should scare you the most. It means I am plotting.

If you were writing a guideline for how people should deal with you what would you include?

The Prompt: Write a list of 23. (23 things to do, 23 people you owe apologies to, 23 books you’ve lied about reading, 23 things you can see from where you’re sitting, 23 ten-word hooks for stories you want to tell….)

I searched Google in an attempt to find the names of a few women who were murdered, murdered by black men, and or victims of violence. Specifically, I searched the following phrases: “Black women killed by black men in 2011″ , “black women murdered by black men” , and “murdered Black Women”

These are my results.

If we go by what is found in the media and on search engines, this is what we come to believe is true:

1. White Women are almost always murdered by Black Men.
2. Black Women are rarely murdered and/or never murdered by Black Men.
3. Black women are murders, killing everything from children, white women, chivalry, and manhood.
4. Black women complain about violence but only on behalf of Black men/boys.
5. Black men are often the victims of racial violence and Black women are their protectors and vindicators.
6. Black women are storytellers and can weave elaborate realistic tales about being victimized but are usually lying.
7. Black women are skilled at disappearing without a trace.
8. Emmet Till was Black and had a Black mother.
9. Black women may or may not be serially murdered in LA but the evidence of this happening is not 100% sound. After all,  they were prostitutes.
10. Black women are fat.
11. If Black women are killed, and there is very little evidence that Black women are, it is usually by the family of the non-black men with whom they consort.
12. The Feminist Wire is one of the only resources I found directly address Miss/Murdered Black Women. The original article was picked up by Ms. Blog but was still received little attention.
13. Search for “Murdered Black Women” is the best way to find out if any women of another race was murdered.
14. Back men are often on the wrong side of the cops, etc.
15. Black women have out of wedlock children.
16. Black women are killing their natural beauty with chemicals.
17. For Black women, dating is hard and they are angry about it.
18. Black women murder any pro-lifer who stands in their way of abortions.
19. There are White guys who love Black women.
20. Domestic violence that results in a murder of a Black women are not considered murders of Black women.
21. Chris Rock understands why OJ killed Nicole Simpson.
22. A Black man apologizes via poetry for murdering Black women but commends their strength and unwillingness to stay dead.
23. Justice for Trayvon Martin.

 This was Prompt 9 for The Scintilla Project.

The Prompt: Who was your childhood best friend? Describe them–what brought you together, what made you love them. Are you still friends today?

We became friends at six years old- a friendship held together, I thought, by the glue of another. I was always doubtful of the strength of our friendship. Our personalities were so similar and our level of self-awareness so different. We shared a larger than life personality that entered the room before our bodies – dominating conversations and exploding the energy with our humor. And boy were we funny, fun, and smart. But Jennifer was brave and strong and secure in her identity yet there was an air of shyness in her demeanor. I was meek, and scared, and desperate to be liked with no true understanding of who I was or who I would become. To many she seemed abrasive in her delivery, but it was obvious that her fierce loyalty and dedication to those she called “friend” was tireless.

We spent much of our childhood dancing, singing, and wondering what the future would hold. And we laughed. We laughed hysterically as we tried to get through Huck Finn for a project that I really don’t think we ever finished. We laughed our way through monotonous classes at IS 192 avoiding the fights (more or less) that awaited us at every turn.

Then, in a blink of an eye, we lost each other. I was thrust into a real life meshing of Cruel Intentions and Gossip Girl also known as private school in NYC and she went on to navigate the seas of public high school. And for almost a decade we ceased to exist as a we, frantically developing our “I” stories. Until, through a chance meeting with the former glue, we reconnected as college students.

She was already the person I was hoping to become one day. She  did not fit into the box that I was trying desperately to shatter.  Yet we were both struggling to find love and acceptance. Still, she wasn’t afraid to let loose and party. I, on the other hand, was just learning to be me. She showed me that it was OK to be different. I was trying to fit in. She made me realize my feelings for the man who would be come my husband while I was still coming to grips with my desires. Through our many talks, with us often swapping the role of advisor, I learned to accept that it was possible for beauty and sexy to exist outside of the societal constraints. Through chugged 40s, snuffed cigarettes, Characters, and cruising the ‘hood, she helped me find my footing – enabling me to gain the confidence that I lacked for so long.

Life often pulls people apart and for one reason or another we lose our roots. But Jennifer is a root to me. She reminds me of the places I’ve been and of how far I’ve come. And while we have not interacted out side of Facebook much in years, she is one of the only people from my youth with whom I wish to reconnect. We may not be as close as we once were but I still consider her one the best friends that I have ever had.

Thank you Jennifer! You’ve impacted my life more than you know!

———–

I’ve decided to participate in the Scintilla Project because I want to get back to writing and I need to find my voice. Also, because her words inspire me.

When I went to college and opened credit card accounts, made friends from other countries, and began a life outside her control, she continued to open my mail. She questioned me about purchases despite the fact that I was paying off my own credit cards and working two jobs to do so. She opened letters from friends and used the information that she gathered as ammo in many of our heated arguments. And she made a point to remind me that she had a right to see/read what was being sent to her house…. Privacy did not exist as my diary, my mail, my phone conversations were all open to her perusal.

After I moved in with my husband I began to see how my NM’s behavior had a lasting effect. I used to open my husband’s mail. I would let him know what it said, but I always read it with no regard for his privacy. He didn’t care at first and he never really brought it up. Then my NM accused me of driving 4 hours to her house to steal her tax refund check. I told him about her obsession with mail and he pointed our that I open his mail.

It was a shock but not because I was ashamed to do it. Nope, the shock came because my mom had trained me to believe that this is how things are – you live in a house with someone, you know everything even if that means reading their mail. I immediately began checking my behavior because the violation of privacy is unforgivable.

What I have learned is that NMs do not believe that you have the right to live your life without their involvement. In fact, they don’t believe that you have a life. They believe that they control what you do, think, feel, say and want. Privacy is in direct violation of that control so the first thing they do, is remove. It is calculated and the purpose is to keep you weak.

I no longer open his mail without asking him. I don’t feel entitled and allow my husband and my daughter, who is 5, as much privacy as needed for them to maintain and in my daughter’s case, develop, their own identities. I will never be my NM! Never.

But when I look back on my childhood, I realize that lies were a part of my upbringing. But it never became more apparent to me, just how much she lied, until I went away to school. She lied about me, my sisters, my dad, everyone. It was awful and made me as if my whole life was a fantasy. I had know footing because my ground was built from lies.

So, to help purge the lies, I offer

Lies My Narcisstic Mom Told About Me.

To Camp Counselors: ”Kristina is  sexually aggressive and loose,” after I was fondled and sexually assaulted by a boy in summer camp while I was recovering from an illness in the infirmary. She was called. Was told. Made me say that it was a misunderstanding.

To a friend’s mother when I was in 8th grade “Kristina is a liar and a whore and mentally ill. You should not let your daughter be friends with her,” because I  was 30 minutes late coming home from a 8th grade basketball game.

To the mothers of 3 friends when I was in 8th grade: ”Kristina is mentally disturbed and runs away all the time,” when I would show up at their homes because she would deadbolt the door when I was late (I travelled by train and two buses to and from school every day) by more than 5 minutes. She would also say this when she kicked me out and I went to someone’s house.

“Kristina cut school and had sex in my bed. She then threw the condoms on the outside window sill so that I could find them.” Um, this just doesn’t even make sense.

To the ER doctors when I was rushed there in 12th grade after suffering my 1st full-blown asthma attack. “She is faking because she wants attention. Either that or the drugs.” The doctor explained that there was now way to fake a 5% oxygen level (which she knew because she’s a RN), there were no sign of drugs, and that this was real. Did I mention that I was found in the bathtub, struggling to breathe? She had me transferred to another hospital at which point she says, “By the time we get there, she’ll stop,”

“Kristina got kicked out of SUNY-Albany because she was sleeping around and flunked out.” I had ONE boyfriend in my first two years of college and made Dean’s List the year I left. I left because she stopped paying it (she would tell me that she did and then I would get called out in Lecture  Hall because they never received a check). And when I’d confront her she’d tell me she changed her mind. So, I was working two jobs and running up credit cards to pay for school. I left and went to community college and then to SUNY-Oneonta and got my MST from Fordham- with the help of my FIL!

“Kristina stole and cashed my Tax refund.” Um, I lived 4.5 hours away and DID NOT DRIVE or have a car of my own, but I managed to do this and was able to cash an IRS check without ID.

“Kristina can’t keep a job so I have to give her money for her bills.” She gave me rent money 1 time right after I was married but she offered it as a Christmas Gift. Stupidly I accepted.

To family and friends: “Kristina’s husband beats her and has a gambling problem. She asked me if she could take the baby and come live with me. I told her no!” My husband has NEVER laid a hand on me and has played poker 3 times in the last 10 years. And I would NEVER ask to live with her! EVER. She told this to people after she gave me the silent treatment for almost a year.

(To my Aunt whom I don’t see regularly): “Kristina was fired from her teaching job because she is mentally unstable and not good at it.” I took a leave of absence to start a web design business and to homeschool my daughter. I officially resigned and my Principal came to my sister’s wake and begged my mom and my husband to convince me to come back because I was such a good teacher.

To family members and family friends: “Andrew’s family hates her because she is Black and they save hurtful things to her.” Um, my mother-in-law demanded that I sit net to her at her husband’s funeral. My father-in-law, when he was alive, was like my own father and told me that he would be my dad now when my dad passed. Me SILs have me listed as their SISTER and not sister-in-law on their emergency contact form. My FIL gave me money for schol and bought most of my books. Did I mention that we lived with them for almost 3 years?

To my ex-Brother in Law: “Kristina is incapable fo taking care of her own daughter so she could never take her niece.” I was trying to get custody of my sister’s youngest daughter whose father (not exBIL) was absent after my sister died. I wanted her to stay in NY because her half-sister was here and they were very close. My mom then went behind my back and arranged for her to live with her Paternal Grandfather in NC.

There are many others, but these display the range and depth that she would go to make me look and feel badly. I no longer “cover” for her and I confront the lies straight on by telling other people that my mother is a NM and we have gone NC because she has tried to hurt me and my family.