Tag Archives: mommies

Should Kelly Williams-Bolar be in jail?

Kelly Williams Bolar broke the law. She sent her children to a school near her father’s home which was not their zoned school. This happens everyday but rarely is someone sentenced to jail time. Bolar has to serve 10 days in jail and she will be on probation for 2 years. The real crime here is why are some schools in this country sub-standard? Tell me what you think.

Is the Tiger Mom Wrong?

The past few days I have watched pundits debate the book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom by Amy Chua. Chua has been both praised and criticized for the parenting tactics she used on her two children. Some of her rules include the following: (1) schoolwork always comes first; (2) an A-minus is a bad grade; (3) your children must be two years ahead of their classmates in math; (4) you must never compliment your children in public; (5) if your child ever disagrees with a teacher or coach, you must always take the side of the teacher or coach; (6) the only activities your children should be permitted to do are those in which they can eventually win a medal; and (7) that medal must be gold. She also reveals in the book that she has called her children “garbage”, but in spite of this I admire the fact that she refused to heap false praise on her children. As parents so many of us have praised mediocre to the point where children can not even recognize excellence. Tell me what you think about the Tiger Mom’s rules.

My Princess Boy?

 Cheryl Kilodavis authored a book called “My Princess Boy” which Dyson’s school now uses as an anti-bullying tool. Her 5 year old son likes to dress up like a princess. His family has embraced his choice, but what do you think? Watch the clip: http://www.emailthis.clickability.com/et/emailThis?clickMap=viewThis&etMailToID=1884221474

Mad Dad Deals with Bus Bullies and faces jail time

James Willie Jones was mad when he boarded his daughter’s school bus. His daughter Chatari was being bullied by children on the bus. Her father said he had reached out to the school but to no avail. the school says he did not reach out to them, but even with that fact in dispute there was no dispute that his child was being victimized. He got on the bus and threatened her tormentors. He was brash, bold and profane. He now faces the possibility of 120 days in jail. Why would he take such a brash step? Some will say after all it just kids, but adults are getting fed up with unruly, undisciplined children. In Chicago a woman who had been tormented by a 12 year old for over a year shot the boy in the arm. She had called the police when he started a fire in her backyard. he had thrown bricks at her home and at her and finally she feared for her own life and took the law into her own hands. A 14 year old Baltimore girl shot and killed a man in a botched robbery attempt.  The victim actually laughed at her when she brandished the gun. he never thought the young girl would shoot him but she did. her relatives contend she always had a bad temper, but she’s just a child. Yes, she is a child but she is a child that committed a murder. Adults are getting tired of excusing menacing and threatening behavior as some kind of perverted rite of passage. We don’t advocate vigilante justice, but in some cases I have to say I  understand. Tell me what you think.


Mother’s Day 2010-Another Motherless Mother’s Day


Missing My Mother…Grief does Not Stop at the Graveyard

 My mother died almost 30 years ago.   She was so young that I can not imagine what she would be like now.  She was just a few years older than I am now. It is even more difficult to believe that I have lived more of my life without her than with her. My mother and I had a very close relationship. I was not a rebellious child so the conflicts we had were very minimal, but I now wonder what she would think about the life choices I have made. I now grieve for what never was. She was not here to help me plan my wedding or even meet my future mate. She missed the birth and growth of my children and I missed having her here to guide me through the mind fields of motherhood. As a young woman I was unprepared for my mother’s death. Most people see the tragedy in young children losing their mother, but once you cross the threshold of adulthood people believe you are able to cope with the loss. Yes, you do remain functional you are no longer wailing and lamenting at the loss of your mother, but there is an incredible void that simply can not be filled. During the initial mourning period I remember people mouthing all the usual platitudes: “I’m as close as the phone”, “call me if you need anything” or the worst “I know how you feel”, and let us not forget “she is in a better place.” What??? Well I want her right here with me.  I wanted to scream “why don’t you call me. I’m the one that lost my mother” or “no you don’t know how I feel”, but instead I smiled and nodded as they said the things they thought would make me feel better. What I have learned is you never get over the death of your mother, but you do get on with life, but your life will forever be divided into before my mother died and after my mother died. My father died 4 years before my mother died and while I mourned his death it was a different kind of loss. I still had my mother to help me through the loss of my father, and I remember even then saying I miss my dad, but I knew I could not live without my mother, but that too was simply untrue. After my mother died I remember losing my sense of compassion. When other people would lose their mothers I would be sorry for their loss but there was also a dark part of me that would be saying welcome to the club.   I think there were two people who kept me sane during the dark period, my best friend Stephanie and my Aunt Bernie. Stephanie lost her mother the year after I did so we could share thoughts with each other without fear of judgment, and my aunt provided a listening ear in the midnight hours when I simply needed to ask again and again “why?” What I didn’t think I understood then or now how the grief never goes away. Your happiest moments are always tempered with grief.  I remember redecorating my bedroom the year after she died and being so happy with the outcome, but a part of me was sad that I was happy. On my wedding day I remember waking up at 2AM to a tear-stained pillowcase because she would not be there to share the day with me. I miss the fact that she was never allowed the privilege to be a grandmother. She always loved kids and she would have had such a good time spoiling mine. My mother was the person in my life that saw me through a non-judgmental prism. Is my story unique? Probably not but it is not the kind of story that people are not comfortable sharing aloud or hearing. One thing you find when you lose a mother and you try to talk about with people who still have theirs they don’t want to hear it. As we age the death of parents becomes a common occurrence but when you are young and most of your friends and family members still have theirs you will find that it is a lonely road.  One of the saddest aspects of her death is not being able to make her real to my children. They don’t miss having a maternal grandmother because they never had one. You can’t miss what you never had. I share stories with them but it is like I’m reading a fairytale to them. In the early eighties we were not blessed with the kind of technology we now take for granted. We didn’t have video cameras or camera phones to help keep our memories alive. I have pictures, but the one dimensional version of my mother is insufficient to express who she really was. A picture can not capture the generous spirit that radiated behind the loving smile. In this post mom period of my life I have been able to surround myself with people who love me. I have a husband who has learned to recognize the sadness, but he knows when I want to talk or when I need to walk through it by myself. I have smiled as I see some of the traits of my mother in my children. My children share her loving spirit. My mother was one of the kindest people you would ever meet, but when you pushed her you did so at your own peril. I now can help someone who has lost a mother walk through the pain. Instead of saying “I know how you feel.” I say “I know how it feels to lose a mother.” It has taken me almost 30 years, but I can now be happy with no reservations. I can now rest assured that she is in a better place, but it took decades for me to get to this space. So on this Mother’s Day I can smile at her memory, and also smile because I do know that I have grown into the woman she prayed I would become.