A Love Letter to My Sons

When my son turned 11 a few months ago, I decided to write him a love letter.  It seemed to be a pivotal time for him. He was going through some growing pains and his self-confidence and self-worth seemed a bit shaky. I wanted to have a written record of my commitment to him and my unconditional love for him.  I also wanted him to know I am proud of him – not because of what he’s done but because of who he is and all that unique and wonderful qualities that he possesses.  It had such an impact on him that I decided to do the same for my youngest son who turns 10 today.
Both letters are below.

A Love Letter To My Baby Boy – May 9^th, 2013

Dear Willis,

My sweet baby boy, you have been such a joy in my life. You came into the world a little bit earlier than I was ready for. I should have known then that you would be the kind of child that moves according to your schedule and not mine.

But you were such a quiet, happy baby … always so content to just be held and loved and cared for. You never cried, just called out patiently when you needed me and you slept through the night from day one. Just a dream baby. I think you knew your mama was already tired from running around after your feisty toddler brother and I so appreciated you for it.

Now that you are older and coming into your own, you are not so quiet! But you are even more loveable every day. You are growing out of being a baby but I love that you will always be my baby and will still come look for me at times when you need a cuddle.  You are just the right mix of independence and sweetness and I can’t wait to see the young man you grow up to be.

I love how much patience you have when Tyler tries to “big brother” you.  I love that you are always willing to help. I especially love that you are willing to stand up for yourself and others when you know something isn’t right.

I just wanted you to know how much I love you on this day – May 9th, 2013 – your 10th birthday. You are my 2nd child, but loved equally and infinitely. Some people think that a mom can’t love their children equally, but you have proven to me beyond doubt that love doesn’t divide but it expands and cannot be diminished. There is something so special inside of you. I can’t wait for the world to get to know you like I have.

There will never be an end to my love for you, baby boy. Keep smiling and laughing … you bring me pure joy!


A Love Letter To My Oldest Son – November 12^th, 2012

Dear Tyler,

When God gave you to me, He knew I would need you. You taught me so much about love and life in your first year – it was amazing. When your brother finally came along, you were so happy to finally be a big brother. You held him and read to him and couldn’t wait to teach him everything you knew. Now that you are older, you don’t always get along, but I know you still love him. You have always been an amazing brother.

And an amazing son.

You fill my days with chatter and questions I never knew an 10-year old would ask…but then again, you’ve always been smarter than you should be. You challenge me in so many ways and you teach me about things I never knew I’d be interested in. You dive into your school work and you soak it all in like a sponge. And I love to see the way that you light up when you learn something new and interesting.

I’m a little nervous (in a good way) now that you are 11. I think the questions get harder.
This year, you may grow to be taller than me. I didn’t know that would happen so soon. I have such mixed feelings about the young man you are becoming. I am so proud of you for being smart and loving and courageous. But I’m not ready for you to be so grown up already. I still see you as a little boy with chubby legs, chipmunk cheeks and your arms always open to give a hug.

I just wanted you to know how much I love you on this day – November 5th, 2012 – your 11th birthday. My world is so much better because you are here. I can’t imagine my life without you being a part of it. Thank you for being an amazing son. Thank you for helping me so much around the house and with your brother.

It’s hard to be the oldest child. I know I have learned a lot raising you and I know I will continue to learn. You still have so much to teach me about being a good parent. Thank you for being patient with me and for accepting my apologies with grace when I haven’t been patient with you.

You are incredible. Never forget that. And never forget that I am always here when you need me. I can’t tell you how much of my heart you fill, but I can tell you I would be empty without you. You truly are the best part of me and I love you dearly.

Money Over Love: What Kobe Bryant and His Mother May Be Missing

When our kids are young, Mother’s Day shopping gets a little tricky. We either have to front them the money for our own gift or be prepared to LOVE whatever gift they make, find or buy with their own meager allowances.  If we’re good moms, we accept what they give us because it comes from the heart.

Does something change if they become, let’s say, Kobe Bryant rich?

People seem to think so.  In case you haven’t heard, the NBA super star is in a bitter battle with his mom Pamela Bryant over a deal she made with an auction house. Kobe is trying to stop her from selling his collectible items including a signed All Star basketball, a Lakers Jacket, trophies etc., because he claims her only son gave the stuff to him, and he claims it still belongs to him. And the backstory goes a little deeper. It’s alleged that Kobe’s mom needs the $450,000 advance she’s received from the company to buy a new home.

A lot of people have asked “why doesn’t Kobe just buy his mom a new house”?

Reportedly, Kobe has been very generous with both his parents, in the past, but in his words, how much is enough?

Athletes from a young age are under a lot of pressure to take care of their families. Before they’re out of middle school, their parents hear comments like, “you’re going to be set for life once he goes pro.”

Many professional athletes have been diligent about making their family’s material dreams come true—sometimes to their own detriment.

Financial experts warn athletes about being overly generous. According to an article “Financial Advice for Pro Athletes,” on the  “My Dollar Plan” website, it’s okay to share the wealth with family members, but athletes should make sure it’s a gift of their choosing.  “You are not obligated to give in the future and that gifts are given on YOUR terms—not in response to your request.”

This may not be easy to accept when parents add up the cost of Little League, Pop Warner and time and gas spent going to and from games. I can attest that raising active kids is no joke and there are lots of sacrifices to be made.  But I do it because they’re my children whom I love dearly.  I want them to enjoy sports, get exercise, build character, and I don’t expect to be compensated for this any more than I do for helping them with their homework or fixing dinner.

In defense of Kobe’s mom, it seems like a lot more is going between them that includes in-law mama drama, jealousy and hurt feelings.

In looking at my boys today, I can’t imagine things between us going so wrong. I’m just bracing myself for a Mothers’s Day Gift that I know I will love, not because I asked for it, but because it’s coming from their hearts.

I hope that never changes.

The Cost Of Love: You Can’t Put a Price Tag on a Parent’s Love

Chris Bosh, Jermaine Jackson, Terrell Owens, Usher, and Halle Berry are all either rich and/or famous people embroiled in high-profile, sometimes bitter child support and custody battles. And just as I was about to hit send, a new alert hit my email box.  The headline reads, “Steve Nash child support: NBA star contests support payments for ‘spoiled kids.’”

Every once in a while though, a case involving ordinary people will make the news, like this one involving a former U.S. Marine.

Romel Smith, says he’s paid nearly $30,000 in child support for a child who isn’t his.  He found out that the 15-year-old girl wasn’t his daughter when she was four years old after his own mother prompted to him to get a paternity test.

Mr. Smith has gained lots of sympathy from men and women who are enraged over the fact that he was forced to be financially responsible for a child he didn’t father.
Or did he father her?

I guess it depends on how you look at it.

We get too caught up in what parents want and have too little concern about the kids involved.  Not saying that $30,000 isn’t a huge amount of money to pay, but if we took the money out of the equation, how would it change the story?  Whether he gets his money back or not is less of an issue as to what his relationship will be like with his “daughter” now that this story has gone public.  How will it impact her security, trust and self-esteem?

The laws may be flawed on the issue of how easy it is to have a man’s name placed on a birth certificate and how difficult it is to have it removed if it’s proven he’s not the biological parent of a child.  But here’s where I agree. If you have raised a child as yours, if you have assumed responsibility for their livelihood, if you’re the one they call daddy, you don’t get to take that back.
I’m a single mom and if I began to add up the monthly monetary cost of raising my children with not that much help from their dad, it would probably make my head spin.  There’s $500 a month on groceries, $300 a month on child care – throw in entertainment, clothes, baseball basketball – not to mention the mortgage, light bill and monthly trip to Urgent Care … Hey, they’re 11 and 12- year-old boys – and it really starts to add up.

But I don’t expect their father to share these expenses equally with me because we have an agreement that works. To me, quality time spent between my sons and their father is more important than dollars.  When I hear about people who aren’t in the same situation, explain away what fathers should and shouldn’t do, what they should and shouldn’t pay, I’m tempted to tell them how ridiculous they sound.  Even in good marriages, there’s no true equality in how much money each parent contributes to each child.

Now while I’m not advocating that anyone be financial irresponsible – I also know that when it comes to matters of divorce and child custody issues – nothing is as simple as we would like.
The bigger picture is that we nurture our children.

What is more important, more valuable and more difficult to measure is the time parents want to spend or are allowed to spend with their kids.

Women and men who keep their exes from seeing their children because they’re behind in child support need to stop.  And dad’s especially who purposely remove themselves them from their children’s lives because they can’t contribute monetarily have got this whole thing twisted.
Whether the father – Romel Smith, who was duped by the system gets his money back or not, I hope he will remain a part of the life of the girl who knows him as Dad.  If he was a positive male role model, letting a legal matter come between them is crime.

We can add up the money and material things, but a child’s opportunity to have a relationship with both parents – whether by blood or not – is priceless.

Not Watching ‘Scandal’ is Scandalous

Can you even remember what you used to do on Thursday nights before  you got hooked on ABC’s hit TV show “Scandal?”  I know, right.

Every few years a series comes along that just clicks with Black America.  Just off the top of my head, and in no particular order, there was “The Game,” “Soul Food,” “Living Single,” “Def Comedy Jam,” “The Arsenio Hall Show”, the “Dave Chappelle Show”, “The Cosby Show”, “In Living Color,” “Soul Train,” and now “Scandal.”

What distinguishes that list of shows from many of the shows popular among blacks is the emotional ties that came with them.  If you didn’t watch “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air,” your peers might assume it just wasn’t your kind of show … if you didn’t watch “The Cosby Show,” “Def Comedy Jam,” and now “Scandal,” black folks look at you funny.

I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  I’ve heard comedians, actresses and others literally have to defend themselves and their blackness because they aren’t regular viewers of “Scandal.”

It’s a good, well-written show, but how did it get to be an obsession?

Hollywood veteran actress and “Scandal” fan Holly Robinson-Peete thinks she knows why.
“We are starved for people who look like us doing the things we do or fantasize about doing and we don’t get a chance to see enough of that,” she says.

But Christopher J. Respass, a pastor in a Dallas suburb, thinks it goes a little deeper.  He says “Scandal” appeals to a lustful part of us that longs to be satisfied.  He says what we don’t see in the hour-drama is that its allure results in “real destruction.”

In case you’re not familiar with “Scandal,” and God bless you if you aren’t, in a nutshell, the show is about Olivia Pope, a fixer who is having a torrid affair with a very white president. Ironically, Pope seems to be able to fix the world while her personal life crumbles before our eyes. Played by Kerry Washington,  she became the first African American actress to have the lead in a network drama in almost 40 years when she landed this role.

Pope is based on former George Bush (the daddy) administration press aide Judy Smith who is also a co-executive producer. There’s lots of sex, mystery, intrigue and the show created and written by the incomparable Shonda Rhimes is fast-paced, unpredictable, and an across-the-board hit.

But even with a black creator and writer, a black co-executive producer and a black star, ABC and Shonda Rhimes are quick to stress that “Scandal,” is not a “black” show.

It may not be in their heads, but for whatever reason it speaks to Black America in traditional and not-so-traditional ways.  There are the formal live social media parties like the one Tom Joyner frequently holds on Facebook, and a variety of Twitter parties, some  that include Kerry Washington and Shonda Rhimes.  Add to that the home and cell phone parties and one thing is clear: “Scandal,” is one of the most social shows on the air.

People feel the need to talk about it when it’s on and to complain when it isn’t.

So much so that when the networks put it on a three-week hiatus, a petition was started on “Change.org.”  The leader of the “movement”, T.R. Mason writes:

“Putting a show like Scandal on repeated hiatus is a surefire way to lose fans and viewers. Gladiators/Scandalistas/Scandalists everywhere have not gotten over our initial shock that there will be no Scandal AGAIN for 3 more weeks. Instead of whining and complaining, we are doing something about it! Shonda Rhimes is NOT the reason there’s another hiatus. It’s the TV execs at Disney/ABC Television Group. Let your voices and displeasure be heard by contacting Anne Sweeney, the President of ABC Entertainment [...] Or send her a nice little profanity free email at netaudr@abc.com.”
 
So far, nearly 2,000 have signed the online petition.

I wonder if the signers find it a little strange when they noticed that some the other issues being protested are child sex trafficking, the exploitation of child labor and lack of insurance coverage for life saving medical procedures.

Even though Mason’s letter was somewhat tongue in cheek, we know some people who sincerely seem to need their “Scandal” fix.

I’m a “Scandal” fan, but I wonder if some of us have crossed the line and become fanatics—obsessed and overly enthused about it.  I know one mom who won’t allow her children to interrupt her during the show no matter what, and another woman who won’t work the night shift on Thursdays even though she could use the overtime.  That’s gangster.

I could understand this zeal, maybe, back before  DVR, On Demand, HULU and Netflix.  But “Gladiators” want it live or nothing…no matter what the cost.

Oh, by the way, here’s a tweet that might make their day from Rhimes:


“All new episodes of ‪@GreysABC and ‪@ScandalABC this week!  FINALLY!  Whew. Because some of you were yelling at me on the street about it ..”

Watch your back this summer, Shonda!

Tragedy Deserves More Than 140 Characters and a Hashtag

So many things that we say sound like clichés when we run them off almost with not thought. “Tomorrow isn’t promised,”  “make every moment count,”  “hug your kids everyday”…until a tragedy like the Boston bombing strikes.

Many of us, myself included, immediately turned to Twitter and Facebook to send out our sentiments.  Most of the messages were poignant, motivating, and inspiring.  Sadly this has become the new normal.  From catastrophe to catastrophe we bond via the internet for a day or a week or a month. It’s most likely because in a state of hopelessness, we feel like something…anything is better than nothing.

But it could also be hindering us from reaching out and actually doing the things that we write in 140 characters or less.  How many of us really made any changes in our lives since the Newtown shootings back in December?  Now here we are again, vowing to forgive, to let go of petty beefs we have with others, cherish every second with the ones we love.

I’m not hating on social media… creating global visibility using social media as a platform is my thing…but let’s not let our tweets and posts replace our traditional modes of communicating.  A mass message is not as meaningful as a phone call, and a smiley face can never convey the warmth of real smile.

A good friend of mine who admittedly has time management issues says that part of the problem is once she talks about a project or outlines it, it’s almost like she’s completed the task and she loses the enthusiasm. The same can be said for social media. Once we’ve pressed “send” on the tweet or message of encouragement or motivation, we feel like our job is done.

But it’s not – more work needs to be done.

Let’s face it. It would be impossible for our emotions to remain at peak level weeks and months after a horrific situation that doesn’t personally impact our lives. We wouldn’t function very well if we took on everyone’s problems and carried it with us for extended periods of time.  Those of us who are spiritual are taught to give our problems and burdens to God so that we can press forward and be of good cheer.

Somewhere in between the constant coverage of doom and mayhem we’re seeing on the news and the on-to-the-next-thing mentality has to be a place where we have time to create a sense of security for our children.  As hard as it is for me to process an eight-year-old dying in a bombing at a marathon, it has to be triple that for my two sons. Especially when breaking news is delivered to them via the Internet instead of through a compassionate discussion with an adult who can filter some of the information, answer their questions and lessen their fears.

I’m going to love on them today, as I always do. But I also realize that I need to do more. Sudden tragedies do serve to remind us that not even a minute from now is promised.

What IS promised is an opportunity to make this moment count.

Parenting Gay Children: Choose Love Above All

Last week the world learned what basketball great Magic Johnson and his wife Cookie had known for many years—that their son, Earvin Magic Johnson, Jr. was gay.  If you didn’t already respect Magic for appearing to be a stand up guy, a philanthropist and a businessman who has invested heavily in inner-cities, then perhaps he’ll earn it with his response to the “outing” of his namesake:  “Cookie and I have always been proud of EJ and will always support him.”

I think most people with children have wondered at one point or another how we would react to learning that they were gay.

Decades ago, parents had excuses for not handling the news as well as Magic and Cookie. Back then there were few, if any, examples to follow. There was no Oprah or Dr. Phil out there to remind people that others were experiencing the same things that they were.

No matter what your religion, politics, or upbringing has taught you, when it comes to people, even our children, some things just are as they are. Some are left handed, some have freckles, some are attracted to the same sex as they are,  and some will never feel normal living  as a boy when they feel like a girl and vice versa.

The latter is the most complicated.  As some people pointed out when they saw the video of EJ sporting a boa and purse,  gay is one thing, “flaming” is another.   Chastity Bono, the daughter of singer Cher, was so certain that she was intended to be male that she got gender reassignment surgery, hormone shots and is now living as a male.

Magic and Cher will tell you that these situations didn’t come up over night.  In fact, Magic says, EJ’s identity was so noticeable that he and Cookie approached him when he was 13 and he admitted that he was gay.

What is a parent to do? Yell, cry, ignore the truth, shun, condemn? It sounds bad when you say it, but those are all real and honest reactions for some.  We have an image of what and who our children will be and when it’s not even close to our imaginary blueprint, that can throw us way off.  We have to deal with our disappointment, fear and sometimes anger,  then with how we think others will react.
Not easy by any stretch.  But if you’re a parent, a real parent who loves unconditionally, then the question you should ask is, do I want my child to live a life of happiness or misery? Growing up is tough, no matter who you are, and the role of parents is to help our children maneuver through with guidance, patience, instruction, and love.

For youth between the ages of 10 and 24, suicide is the third leading cause of death. It results in approximately 4,600 lost lives each year.

Lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth were significantly more likely to attempt suicide in the previous 12 months, compared with heterosexuals (21.5% vs 4.2%). Among lesbian, gay, and bisexual youth, the risk of attempting suicide was 20% greater in unsupportive environments compared to supportive environments.

I’m not a psychologist but it doesn’t take one to know that no parent should ever allow their child to suffer needlessly.

Whether you believe one is born gay or that it’s a choice isn’t the issue.  The real issue is that as parents, we have the option to choose love. And like Magic and Cookie, we should.

Belts, Cords or Switches: Let’s Stop Hitting Our Kids

The controversial video of an African American father whipping his two teenaged daughters has gone viral and is sparking lots of conversation, which is always a good thing.  (See video below)
I just hope some of the conversation brings about change and not just more of the same.  At some point we have to realize that everything our parents and grandparents did wasn’t right, and perhaps there are options to physical discipline.

In defense of hitting our children we are quick to paraphrase Proverbs 13:24.

Now before you demand that I turn in my “black” card, hear me out. I’m in no way advocating that children be able to get away with bad behavior. The Bible says spare the rod and spare the child. The verse from Proverbs goes on to say, “He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him.”

So let me repeat: I’m in no way advocating that children be able to get away with bad behavior. In fact, I’m advocating the opposite.

Like most of you, I have a low tolerance for children throwing tantrums in Wal-Mart and teens rolling their eyes at their mamas.  If you knew me and my two sons, I think you would at least give me the benefit of the doubt on this one. My kids aren’t perfect but they are smart, talented, and well-behaved when they’re with me and when they aren’t.  I have never hit either of them with a belt or my hand—just a pop on the legs or hands when they were babies.When they got old enough to understand what I expected of them, there was no need for hitting. I do reserve the right to retract this statement should they lose their minds when they enter their teen years.

But that’s not where I came from, necessarily.  My mom gave out her share of whippings or “whoopings,” depending on where you’re from and it went on until I was a young teen. If the laws in place today about corporal punishment were around when my sister and I were growing up, my mom even admits she might have been arrested.  I more than my sister, who is a year older, got “taken to task,” usually for showing my mother disrespect.

I don’t blame her for doing what she needed to do to swiftly get my attention and to send the message of what she would and wouldn’t tolerate. That was one way to do it, but it wasn’t the only way.

My dad never laid a hand on us and with his words was able to get the same messages across to us. It may have been the combination of the two styles of discipline that led to us turning out pretty well.
Who knows?  There’s no perfect formula for parenting…a lot of it is, pardon the pun, hit or miss.

But here are my problems with the video:

1.    It’s on video
2.    A father hitting a daughter could send the message that it’s okay for women to get hit by men.
3.    It reinforces the idea that violence is the only way to discipline our children.

Trying another way is not an affront to our culture.  It just might be a way to curb the cycle of violence that we can’t deny.  Again, if disciplining with a belt, a ruler or a switch is your method, that is your right, within reason.  But it should never be out of anger, under the influence of drugs or alcohol, or intended to embarrass or humiliate a child or teen.

The most effective disciplining starts when children are babies and if it’s done correctly and consistently, I promise you children can respond in a positive way without being hit.

But this method is not for the weak or the impatient. It takes a lot of work. My dad told me when I first became a mother that no matter what, you have to say what you mean and mean what you say – whether it’s good or bad.  It takes being persistent in incorporating follow-through.  To make it work, you have to be a real adult, sober, diligent and able to teach by example.  If you start when they’re old enough and bold enough to post videos of themselves simulating sex, I think it’s too late for talking… or beating for that matter.

But that’s just me.  What do you think?

Dear Antwaun: What I Would Say If I Were Fantasia

In the new issue of Sister 2 Sister Magazine, singer Fantasia candidly discusses what went wrong in her relationship with Antwaun Cook.  Their very public relationship has been played out in the media from day one—how she fell in love with a married guy, how he left his wife for her, her pregnancy, an alleged suicide attempt by her, the break up, his admission of cheating on her, and now her explaining why it won’t happen again.  It’s almost like she feels she let her fans down and she’s making it up to us by promising that she’s learned her lesson.

She says she’s learned from her mistakes and has discovered that importance learning to love herself before loving others.

But what about Antwaun?  What if anything has he learned?

Here’s a young man from Charlotte, North Carolina who after beginning a relationship with Fantasia gained instant celebrity status.  The former T-Mobile salesman reportedly left his wife and child to pursue a life with someone who offered him an immediate upgrade….and no long-term contract.
Was he wrong?  Absolutely.  I don’t know anything about his home life, how he grew up or what role models he had or didn’t have.  But I also know that you don’t have to be a 20-something dude from the south to get caught up in a highly publicized extra-marital scandal.

Antwaun is in good company, From high-ranking politicians, to pastors and priests, to school principals and TV stars, Antwaun and others have been given a template of how to break moral codes, ignore marriage vows and live double lives.

The boys will be boys wink and nod attitude only works when you look at the small picture.  The big picture includes lots of casualties…in the Cook/Barrino case: his ex-wife, their child, Fantasia and their child, and even her older daughter.  Throw Antwaun in there too.  He’s a celebrity now but without the income to provide for his current two families.   If you Google “Fantasia’s Baby Daddy, his name pops up more than 14,000 times.  You can read about who he’s currently dating and his new job as the owner of a bail bonds company.

A lot of love and support comes Fantasia’s way as it does to any woman whose heart has been broken, especially by a married man.  I do hope that she learns to love and value herself and to discern who she can and cannot trust.

But the Antwauns of the world need to hear that same message.  Some of their behavior is also a result of self-esteem issues and them not really understanding their self-worth.    As mothers of sons, it’s never too soon to let them know our high expectations are of them.  Before they begin dating we should put as much scrutiny on their prospective girlfriends as they most likely will place on our boys.  Let’s not spend our entire investment on girls and leave it our boys to figure things out.


In case Antwaun has never heard it, it isn’t too late for him to become the man, the father and husband he’s destined to be.  And it isn’t too early to let our boys know they are expected to do the same.

Sit Back and Enjoy the Ride? What Teens Should Know About Adult Sexual Enticement

I see it and hear it every time a story comes out about a teenage boy being linked sexually with a female teacher: the snickering and even feigned jealousy of grown men who claim they wish they could have been as lucky when they were back in school.

Some even wonder why young boys don’t keep their mouths shut and just enjoy the ride. No pun intended. It’s such a double standard. No one in his or her right mind would ever find anything amusing, intriguing or sexy about a 30-year-old man having sex with a 14 or 15-year-old girl, but for some reason it’s assumed that when it happens to a boy, he’s living out his fantasy.

The most recent headline: Former NFL cheerleader, 42, charged after offering sex to 12-year-old boy at parents’ party in Tennessee. We know some boys dream about their teachers, their babysitters, in some cases, their friend’s moms and of course NFL cheerleaders. But dreaming about it is one thing, actually living it out is something different.

 I’ve taught my sons from an early age what inappropriate behaviors to watch for. What I haven’t taught them yet is how to ward off sexual enticement from people they should trust, like their schoolteachers. Because I’m a woman, it’s not an easy lesson to teach. I can only imagine the confused emotions that come into play when you are physically aroused by someone but completely aware mentally that those feelings are wrong. It will take a real man to explain to them how to keep these urges in check. But based on the reactions I’ve heard, how many men can I trust to give sound advice? How can I be sure that they won’t inadvertently send the message that a teenage sexual encounter with a female adult is some sort of rite of passage? I mean, I’ve heard about men who have actually taken their teenage sons to prostitutes and strip clubs.

So, let me put it this way. If you’re a guy who would be repulsed at the idea of your young son, little brother or nephew being molested by a male adult, you should be just as repulsed about a grown woman taking advantage of a boy. Sexual relations between adults and teens are wrong … period. And research proves they cause psychological damage.

We’ll declare this a judgment and giggle-free zone so if you’re a man or know one who was messed up by an older woman. Let me hear from you.

If we don’t start protecting our kids, the cycle of sexual dysfunction and lack of real intimacy will continue. Not a good look.

Between the internet, cable TV, and explicit song lyrics our children will be over sexed and over stimulated long before they’re mature enough to handle what they’ve been exposed to. Whether you have boys or girls, they’re going to meet up at some point with unhealthy attitudes about what’s expected of either.

CREATE THAT VILLAGE NOW: It’s Time to Be Outraged Over Rape of Young Girls

The verdict is in but the story about the two Steubenville high football players convicted of raping a West Virginia teen girl continues to make headlines. More recently two high school football players in Torrington, Conn., were charged with assaulting a 13-year-old girl, and the alleged victim has been menaced on social media as a ‘snitch,’ according to a report.

As a mother of two young sons, I cannot imagine what was going on in the lives of the football players to make them treat a women or girl in this manner.  As a woman, a daughter, an aunt, a sister and friend to women with daughters, I’m equally curious as to how an underage girl could be put in this situation. 
I don’t understand the alcohol consumption, I don’t understand a teen party with no adult supervision, and I don’t understand why there’s no curfew for these kids who were out all night.

As a victim, my heart continues to break because I know the life-long ramifications of sexual assault.
There are no easy answers to a story as complicated and tragic as the Steubenville case. Everything about it outrages and saddens me. The out-of-control underage drinking. The fact that dozens of people witnessed what was going on and NO ONE did anything to stop it. The social media aspect. The lack of friends who would step in and help the victim (some of her “friends” even testified for the
defense…) and what seems to be a massive cover-up to protect two stars of the storied football team.
Where were all the people that were supposed to look out for these young people and navigate them through the trials and tribulations of the teenage years? Teachers, coaches, parents, neighbors, pastors, etc.?


Even though this isn’t my world, it is the world for a lot more people than I’d like to imagine. The selfish answer is for me to worry about only what’s mine, to make sure that my sons are always at chaperoned events and that I have face-to-face meetings in advance with any adults that are supervising them.  I can also continue to demand that they respect all people, but women in particular.  I can take them to church and make certain that they’re spiritually and morally grounded.

I can judge the parents of the teens involved and wonder why they haven’t done the job that I might have done.

Or, I can realize that I can’t control every aspect of our lives, that there will be times when even the best of moms can’t nail down the exact locations of our kids.  They can leave home with some one trusted and end up visiting someone who makes you raise an eyebrow. They can be minding their own business and become the target of someone who just doesn’t like the way they’re dressed or the way their hair is cut.  They can be with family members or friends who flip out or they themselves can have a lack of good judgment that could lead to the unthinkable, just as it did for the teens who may have to be listed as registered sex offenders for life.

All children need to be taught that there are boundaries and where exactly those boundaries lie. If we’re only teaching our kids the rules, it doesn’t help so much when the kid with a whole different set of values shows up.

So instead of looking down at families who find themselves in the kind of peril these teenagers are in, how about looking outward and trying to have a positive influence on as many young people as we can. It happens through mentoring and all of us have a chance to take part in all kinds of ways.  There are children who have to look much too far to find someone worth emulating, too many boys who need a male to explain how girls and women should be treated and too many girls who need a female to explain what kind of treatment is unacceptable. We can’t solve all the problems of the world but I know for a fact that making a difference in one small way can change someone’s life.


If you’re part of a mentoring program shout it out or if you’ve been mentored by someone who has a positive impact on your life, let’s celebrate them right here. We have to stop talking about the village it takes to raise a child and start creating that village before it’s too late.

Give Love on Father's Day

Father’s Day is Sunday, and the jokes, dissing, and pity party for dads who aren’t expecting anything from their kids and spouses have already begun. Well, let me say for the record, I’m not wit' them. I look forward, not only to honoring my daddy and all the millions of good ones like him, but to use this forum to tell the haters it’s time to stop.

All you have to do is listen to our show, watch daytime talk, court shows, sitcoms or commercials and you can see fathers looking incompetent, ill-equipped, uncaring - or just plain goofy - all day long.

That isn’t my reality, nor is it a reality for a lot of us. And even though this may not be the best time, I have a couple of important confessions – three to be exact.

The first is not that big of a secret. I’m a daddy’s girl and make no bones about it. Now, the second is not that easy to admit. Because of my love for my daddy, there was a time during my early teens that I resented my mother. It only got out of hand one time, and my father stepped in to set some things straight. He told me in no uncertain terms that I could not love and respect him as much as I do without loving and respecting the woman that he chose to love and respect for the rest of his life. And with that one sentence, he set the bar for the man who would be a part of my life.

In fact, my daddy has set the bar so high, the men in my life have had to take a running start and a flying leap just to get close to reaching it. It’s a blessing - and sometimes, I’m beginning to think, a curse - to have lived in a home with a father who did everything he was supposed to do and then some. A blessing for the obvious reasons; I always felt safe and secure. I always had everything I needed. I had his love and attention and didn’t have go out seeking it from other “father figures” I see women going after, like their pastors and their bosses.

The downside is kind of obvious too. I thought that finding a man that did all the things my daddy did would be easy. I had no idea that what was a given in my home was nothing to be taken for granted.

I’m not by myself. I’ve talked to a lot of women who had extremely high expectations from their husbands and children’s fathers based on their own experiences. They didn’t realize that a lot of what their father was had plenty to do with the woman who was by their side helping them, loving them and supporting them along the way.
Thank you, Mama.

So if your man isn’t the man you think he should be, or your daddy wasn’t the daddy you thought he should have been, it could have been that you or the woman in his life wasn’t willing or able to give him what he needed to become the best man he could be. Not trying to ruin the mood of this blog, but I’m just saying ...

And since I’m going to use this space to salute the fathers, old-school and new, who, in spite of their conditions, always found a way to dig deep and put their families first, I’m going to do something that is against the TJMS rules. I’m going to shout out some of the daddies who have made a difference in my life.

This blog is dedicated to my Uncle Harold, whose nickname was Moose and whenever he wanted to talk to you, would invite you to step into his “office;” my Uncle Patrick, who is one of the most selfless, caring and kind men I know. Love him so much I named my oldest son after him. My Grandpa – who didn’t have much more than a third grade education, but seemed like the smartest man in the world, my Grandpops – who answered every letter I wrote. I received his last letter on a Friday night. The next morning we got the news that he died. I still have the letter.

To all the Hinsdale Court fathers for stepping in and being surrogate daddies, whether us kids liked it or not; to my boss - Tom Joyner – who created a legacy for his children and talks about his sons with such pride that you can’t help but be proud to be a small part of what he’s created; to J. Anthony Brown – for always putting the humor in child rearing, like hanging up on moms whenever he hears their kids in the background; to Willis - for always working to be a better man and a better father.

Honorable shout outs also go out to MVP Kobe Bryant for having his beautiful daughters at his side last night during his press conference - and making it seem it wasn’t his wife’s idea - to Bill Cosby and "The Cosby Show" reruns for showing a lot of men and women who grew up without daddy figures what to shoot for and for reminding us NOT to give daddy ugly sweaters; to Wanda Sykes and Rosie for making me thankful that my daddy is a dude, and to President Barack Obama for showing the world a beautiful portrait of a black husband and father.

And finally to my Daddy – for being all of the above and then some, with the exception of the Wanda and Rosie reference, of course. In Sade’s “Baby Father,” she says, “Oh child, don’t you know your daddy love come with a life time guarantee?"

So, whether you have daily daddy duty or give 100-percent the 50 percent of the time you have access to your children, you are to be commended for giving your children something no on in the world can give them or take way: Their Daddy’s love. And I wish for all the children to truly feel their Daddy's love.

Happy Father’s Day!

Breaking Away

Today, I’m packing up my boys and sending them out of town for a week for Spring Break, and, like mamas everywhere, I’m facing a universal dilemma: What will happen if their Nintendo DS runs out of battery power? And, God forbid, I didn’t send enough fruit snacks?

It’s a new day for travel and travel expectations for kids. Passports and luggage designed to fit in the overhead bin on a plane are a must-have for this generation of kids.

Road trips were more the norm for families when we were growing up, although, since my parents are Jamaican, my sister and I did begin traveling by air at an early age.

That was before 9/11, of course, when you could bring fireworks, an industrial-sized bottle of lotion and keep your shoes on going through what was then considered “security” - and you got a real meal on the plane.

But most summers were spent in the station wagon with not only my immediate family, but at any given time, cousins, grandmothers and friends could be piled in as well. My father’s goal was to visit all 50 states and most of the Canadian provinces. And we did. Those cross-country trips are the basis for some of my fondest memories.

I remember one trip in particular when my first cousins, Kara and Susan, hit the road with us. I think we were in Kentucky, and I convinced them to leave the hotel and wander through the vacant field and jump a fence to check things out. The phrase “explore our environment” was born from that adventure, and I guess that is what I love so much about traveling. Exploring new places and learning about different people and cultures has always been a huge thrill for me.

And I’m glad that I can do the same for my children. I just don’t know when it got to be so complicated.

When it comes to my two, let’s just say it’s not my daddy’s family vacation.

Not to imply that my daddy wouldn’t try to run it if he could. The last vacation we all took together, he sent out a mandate that no one would be able to check luggage for a one-week trip to Jamaica. Now, you’re dealing with three grown women and six kids, but Dad had a plan, and that included one bag of checked luggage for all of our liquids - and trust me, there comes a point in a woman’s life when there are some liquids you don’t want your daddy knowing about. But, as always, once my dad settles on a goal, it is going to be accomplished.

If I take into account my boys’ game systems, the chargers, cell phone, etc., they’re rolling with enough technology to turn a TSA worker’s hair gray. That, compared to my She-Ra: Princess of Power backpack filled with candy, gum, lip gloss and a Word Search magazine.

And of course, it all falls on me. Never mind the fact that my break begins as soon as their plane takes off, and I have to search for matching bras and panties, get a pedicure, wax and thread - don’t ask. Right now, my mind is on making sure their sword-bearing Star Wars characters won’t be confiscated and figuring out how long Lunchables can hold up off of ice if there’s a flight delay. It's literally keeping me up all night.

But my kids aren’t losing any sleep. Air travel for them is second nature. At ages six and eight, they have they’ve already flown alone four times, versus me ..... having taken my first solo flight in college.

My youngest has flown so much, he may not be able to land a plane, but he sure can tell you what to do in case of an emergency. He studied that laminated sheet of instructions so thoroughly, once it prompted a woman near him to say, “If something goes wrong, I’m following him.”

Most of their friends are heading some where out of town for Spring Break too, which raises another question: What are they really breaking from? College kids taking a Spring Break makes a lot of sense, but I’m wondering whether first- and second-graders need a respite from addition and subtraction. On the other hand, their mamas sure do, and when I look at it that way, it makes a win-win situation.

Back when fewer moms worked outside of the home, Spring Break was really a time for kids to bond - with rags, furniture polish, brooms and Windex. And it made perfect sense. Mom did the bulk of the cleaning all year long, and she had to look forward to a week of free labor. Today, a lot of mamas I know - married and single, me included - take the week of Spring Break to grab some much needed and deserved Mama-time for ourselves. Whether they are turning it into a girlfriends get away or rejuvenating their relationships with their men, the no-kid zone cones are up and in full effect. So, when we reunite with our little loved ones when Spring Break ends, we all appreciate each other a little more.

Sometimes I meet moms who say they can’t imagine spending days, let alone a week or two, away from their children. I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around that one. Spending time away from each other makes me a better mom, and I think it makes my kids better too. I admit there are sometimes challenges to contend with. No one does everything exactly like you do, and that’s something you and your kids need to come to appreciate.

There’s a chance of you missing out on them losing a tooth or, if you have girls, other landmark events as they get older. And sure, they make pick up some colorful language, a new dialect or even come back dressed in an outfit that makes you shudder. But all in all, we get a lesson in trusting others, letting go, and reclaiming our respective grooves. If only for a week.

Tyler, Today You Are a Man

There comes a time in every black person’s life when it truly hits home that you’re black in America.

My eight-year old son, Tyler, has now joined the ranks of those who have been initiated and is now a proud, badge-carrying member. But I’ll get back to that a little bit later.

I wasn’t sure I was going to even write a blog about Black History Month, and, as you can see, it took me a while to wrap my mind around the whole topic, seeing as we are now into March. But after I attended a Black History Month program with my two sons, my oldest son turned to me and asked when we were going to celebrate White History Month. My response: Baby, we celebrate White History all the time. They cleverly disguise it as American History.

His mouth formed a small O, but I could tell his brain was working overtime, so I started listing examples from his recent social studies test – George Washington, Abraham Lincoln ...

And then the inevitable happened: My precious eight year old pointed out that since we are American, we should be included in American history. He stubbornly ended with "Having just one month for brown people isn’t fair."

Tyler isn’t the only one wondering why we still focus on just one month to bring black history to the forefront. Both black and white critics are still raising the question, "Is Black History Month still needed?" Some say that it’s necessary because African-American history still isn't yet fully integrated into American history, and we still have to have a Black History Month to remind people how much we contributed to this country. Others disagree, saying that black history is intrinsically American, so much broader than just one month. Having a Black History Month has become a tradition, but we have to seriously consider whether or not it is time to move on.

But let’s backtrack.

Last week, in a major discount retail center, as I tried to give my eight-year-old a lesson on shopping for deals after Valentine’s Day, he got another lesson altogether. As we were checking out, the cashier noticed the tag was missing on the $2.25 stuffed animal. Tyler offered to go get another one so the cashier didn’t have to. And then - three weeks into Black History Month - it went down.

The white woman in charge of checking receipts stopped us and says to Tyler, “I need to make sure you paid for that animal because I saw you running back and forth with it. And we have problems with stealing.”

I immediately went to see the (young, African American) male manager to explain the situation, and he was very apologetic. I asked for the GENERAL manager's information, and he was mortified. But when I handed him my business card, he almost peed on himself. It was a little bit of comfort, but not nearly enough when I considered my son’s hurt feelings and my outrage at being treated poorly based on the color of our skin.

The bigger point is that even though I sure saw it as racism, I’m pretty sure my son didn’t.

And that’s part of the dilemma. How do you tell a wide-eyed child, who has nothing but love in heart, that he will be disliked, judged, rejected, detained, profiled and sometimes worse because of the color of his skin? He’s got white friends, white teammates, white teachers. How scary would it be for him to feel he needs to have a sudden distrust of people he cares about and looks up to?

But in the end, all my son really knew was that he was accused of something he would never would have done by someone who didn’t know him well enough to know whether he would have or not — which, when you think about it, pretty much defines prejudice. The mean old woman pre-judged my boy.

Tyler, because he is a black male, will also potentially be pre-judged by admissions directors, job interviewers, recruiters - you name it. And I won’t always be there to make it better.

Stephen Covey says that “There are only two lasting bequests we can give our children – one is roots, the other wings.”

I admit I take a more WHOLE-istic approach to teaching our history to my children. They come from a rich history on both sides of the family – African-American and Jamaican. It’s extremely important to me that they are aware of those that came before and to have pride in their roots.

When they found out their grandfather was the first African-American mayor in the town we grew up in and that my maternal great-great-grandfather helped to found a city in Jamaica, their little chests puffed up with pride. And yes, they eat their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a little more purpose now that they know that a black man was the inspiration behind one of their favorite foods.

The truth is kids who have a strong sense of self and understand their heritage feel validated and don’t look for that validation in unwise places.

When we discuss discrimination and diversity, we sometimes forget that the world we are living in does not belong to us, but rather, our children. They are the ones who inherit our fears, loves, prejudices, etc. They learn it by watching us. In short, children remind us of how simple, complicated and absurd intolerance is. They inspire us to change.

And a change is still needed in the world. Yes it starts with us - and maybe a month. Although I think that learning about who you are and where you come from should be ongoing – 365 days a year – I think some still need an in-your-face reminder about the contributions that African-Americans have made.

In fact, after the in-your-face, impromptu lesson my eight-year-old got this February, I’m sure of it.

Sex, Lies and Text Messages

Maybe it's best that I have sons. Because the day my daughter would look in my eyes and ask me why men lie, I would not have an answer for her. I wish that I'd be able to say that was a generalization. But then, I'd be lying.

Not that women don't lie too; I get that. But that's not what we're talking about today. Sorry! Men lie because they can't handle the reaction of being truthful - and because often make it very easy for men to lie.

On Friday, I watched Tiger Woods’ press conference with two female co-workers, and all three of us pretty much shared the same sentiments: The only thing worse than a cheating, lying man is a cheating, lying man trying to explain why he won’t cheat and lie anymore.

Let’s face it: Tiger wasn’t standing in front of the media - and the world - promising to be a better husband and better man because he had change of heart, had found a new sense of love or appreciation for what he stood to lose or because it was the right thing to do. Tiger Woods promised to be a be a better husband and better man because he got caught. Had the Thanksgiving weekend incident not happened, if my math is correct, by now he’d probably be on woman 38.

Those of us watching the press conference were of different ages, one single, one divorced and one married, yet we all agreed that the best damage-control Tiger could have done at that point was to walk in front of the cameras without a script and say, "I’m going back to work, and I will handle my personal business at home."

No one but Tiger’s wife needed to hear him make the promises that most of us have heard at least once in our lives: “I made a mistake, I was wrong, and I want to prove to you that I won’t make it again.” Surely Tiger had already said those words to his wife. So why was he saying it to the media?

If he had kept that part of his personal life private, it wouldn’t be the topic of conversation, news reports, and yes, blogs. But since he didn’t, I have no problem weighing in.

Elin Woods, like many women, was faced with the decision to continue to live with a very flawed man or to leave him. It’s as simple as that. The difference between her and most women is that she has to make the decision with the world watching.

It is said that the second most intense life stress is loss of love. The first is death. But I question this. Both are final. Both, in most cases, result in the physical removal of someone special from your life. Both result in the loss of a way of life we have become familiar with. Both result in the lingering torment of things that were never said.

However, with death, you have the peace of knowing you were in your lost loved one's heart. You know you were not abandoned purposely, cast aside or rejected. With death, you can take off work and get sympathy. You are given gifts of comfort and understanding. You can go through closing rituals, and you can feel contentment that your beloved is in a better place.

But with breakups, separation or divorce, even though you have the assurance that they are still alive somewhere on this Earth, that person's love was intentionally withdrawn from you! They opted to leave you. And when they leave you with a trail of lies blowing in the wind behind them, it only magnifies the hurt.

I wouldn’t want to be in Elin’s shoes for all the money in Tiger Woods' bank account.

If she had it to do over again, maybe she would have done everything she could have to keep her very private matter with her husband private. Instead, it spilled out into the street ... and, as they say, the rest is history.

Some of us have done the same - made a big, loud display out of something that happened at home. The problem is - and then what? When you put your business out there, there’s no turning back. Then your problem is not just with you and whoever the issue is between, but with your mama, your daddy, your girlfriends, your co-workers - and who needs that added stress?

The reason so many women had little or no love for Tiger and his apology is that many women have heard those words before. And they know that words without action are nothing.

What Elin and most women say they want is honesty. But do we really? What if Tiger’s truth was that he loves his wife, but he also needs to have several other women in order to be happy? Would she accept that? Would we?

In the past month, the lies and eventual truths of men have caused me to wonder if my honesty actually acts as deterrent to theirs. If I openly give my heart to a man and react honestly to things I want and don't want, does this make him lie to make me believe he wants the same things? Does any one truthfully want honesty in any relationship? Or do we all really want to be made to feel better all the time? If I can't accept your truth, have I encouraged you to lie?

Should I be grateful to someone for saying early on that he's in no position to be the person I need him to be, or should I be grateful to the person who did a good job pretending that he could be - until his lies caught up with him?

I don't have the answers.

But I do know that while changing the way I react may be in order, changing the way I love isn't. My heart is pure, even if my actions and reactions aren't always that way. When women are driven to extreme measures - whether it's bashing out teeth with a nine-iron or putting up billboards all over town - based on the lies they've been told or truths that they haven't been able to accept, they're allowing someone else to control who they are. And that should never happen.

Relationships are complicated enough when they’re going well, and when trouble rears its ugly head, how you start has a huge bearing on how you finish. One guy recently sent me a text message to apologize for his disappearing act, saying that as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t be the man I deserved and didn’t want to mess up my life. Another male friend of mine – who was angling to be more – told me over dinner in the beginning of our relationship that he could be a jerk, often thinks of himself before his mate and has a weakness for threesomes.

Check, please!

I’ve learned the hard way that honesty is always the best policy – a little hurt in the beginning is always better than a lot of hurt later.

And that’s what I teach my sons.

Breast-Feeding: To Be or Not to Be?

Are you ride or die when it comes to the advantages of breast-feeding? Or are you “lactate” intolerant?

Nikki Woods and Mary Boyce – proud members of Mamas Gone Wild - have two differing points of view, and yet, almost perfect children.

I - Nikki Woods - don’t care how many degrees I don’t have, how many studies I haven’t conducted or how many women I haven’t examined - I AM an expert on breast feeding. If you’re a mom, whether you chose to breast feed your child(ren) or not, you’re an expert too. I deem it right here on this blog page. No doctor, scientist, nutritionist - male or female - knows more about this topic than I do. Because no one knows me like I do.

Breast-feeding is a personal choice, and I’ve never regretted my decision not to do it. I love my boys and always have been committed to them and their well-being. They are six and eight, perfectly healthy, smart, happy and well-adjusted. There’s no way you could tell me they’d be better than they already are if they had been breast-fed.

When my first son was born, I was the co-host of a morning radio show in Chicago. I loved and needed my job and knew enough about what was expected of me by my employers and myself that breast-feeding would not be a workable plan. But more importantly, because of injuries from a previous domestic violence incident that occurred years before I met and married my babies’ daddy – my doctor advised me that attempting to breast-feed could cause a serious infection in my milk ducts and may do harm not only to me, but to the baby.

I share this mainly to let those inclined to judge know that every situation is different. There are all kinds of perfectly good reasons that women like me chose - and will continue to choose - not to breast feed.

Too often, women are made to feel that their personal preferences should be put aside or even ignored and find themselves caving under pressure from people who won’t be effected by the decision one way or the other. For me, breast-feeding would have added a layer to my life that I wasn’t willing to take on. My option was to do what millions of women do, which is to feed my babies formula.

I think that bullying women into breast-feeding and vilifying those who don’t places undue pressure on a new mother who already feels the weight of the world on her shoulders. It is wrong to make mothers feel that because they bottle-feed or bottle-fed their babies - from birth, as a supplement or after a return to work — they are unnatural, negligent, selfish idiots.

I don’t think women who can’t or don’t want to comply with the recommendations should feel guilty.

Maybe they’re doing other things that are good for their children, like reading to them, making sure they eat good food and get exercise — things that are as important or maybe more important in the long term. Lifestyle, health and diet are as important as or more important than breast-feeding.

But in recent days, I have found that it is hard to bring this point of view forward without being accused of being anti-breast, anti-child, anti-motherhood, anti-all-that-is-decent-and-good-in-the-world. Pardon the pun, but that sucks.

In a perfect world, maybe I would have breast-fed too, but I also would only feed my children organic food, would never have exposed them to "Spongebob Squarepants," and the Nintendo DS would have been akin to the devil.

But it’s not a perfect world.

Now, my friend and co-worker, Mary Flowers Boyce, has a different spin on the same situation, but I'll let her tell you about it.

---

Thanks, Nikki! LOL.

My parents were part of a “progressive” generation, where most things connected with the “old” ways of doing things were shunned. Forget about what their grandparents did or how well they did it; they were intent on being part of middle-class suburbia and took most of their cues from television ads. My mom didn’t breast-feed any of her children and neither did any of her friends. It was too yesterday. And yes, we formula-fed babies turned out fine - no ear infections, no weight issues, all college-educated.

But, by the time I became pregnant in the '90s, there was a total shift toward breast-feeding, and if you didn’t do it, you better have a damn good reason. There was no doubt in my mind that I would breast-feed my children, and my husband was on board too. We bought into all of the hype. And I’m not sorry that we did.

Not that it was easy. OMG. The first few days were brutal. I don’t know who was more frustrated - me, my daughter, my husband or my mom. It seems to be one of the most natural things in the world, but for Erin and me, it was a learning process. “Latching on” was something neither of us got the hang of until she was a few days old. It really took lots of patience, determination and coordination ... like learning to drive a stick-shift.

Even when we did get on point, I was never sure whether she was getting enough milk. We were both cranky, and neither of us was sleeping very well. My husband, my mom - and later, my mother-in-law - felt helpless. When I needed them most, there was nothing they could do but watch us struggle. Finally, everything came together, but when it came time for me to return to work, I had to use a breast pump - and that was no fun at all.

So, would I do it again? I guess I would because I did. When my son was born 16 months later - there goes the myth that breast-feeding is a birth control method! - I got back on the horse, and I have to admit it was much easier. I was more comfortable and in control, and he (maybe because was a dude! LOL) needed very little direction. Did I mention he was nine pounds, nine ounces at birth?

I salute those soldiers who breast-feed children until their babies are two years old, but my boy needed more than I had to give by the time he was three months old. And, by the way - I don’t care what anyone says - my breasts have never been the same. Instead of all my breast feeding buddies telling me all the good stuff, at least one could have told me that a push-up bra would become my new best friend.

Over the years, I’ve read plenty about breast feeding and have heard enough to last a lifetime. But what has stood out the most - and what I think is often missed - is that the first liquid that’s released from a lactating mother’s breast, colostrum, contains important antibodies and nutrients that are extremely beneficial to babies. It’s even said to aid in healthy brain, heart and central nervous system development. So, essentially, after a few days of breast-feeding, you’ve given your child a great start. For me, that’s the happy medium that is a win-win situation for moms who have other things to do besides feed our children.

I’m not certain that breast-feeding for six months with my first and three months with my second made my kids any better than they would have been or whether it makes me a better mom. I am sure that I exercised my personal right to make the choice that was best for me. And if you’re pregnant, you should too.

Changing Colors

So yet another Valentine's Day has come and gone ... and on this post-Valentine's Day Tuesday, a lot of people are still disappointed.

I have many girlfriends who had flowers delivered to their office just to give the appearance of a romantic and thoughtful boyfriend or husband waiting in the wings to fulfill all of their Valentine's expectations. And I admit, after getting a beautiful bouquet mix of roses and lilies sent to my office by the real thing, I was tempted to leave my door open all week long for the haters to see. (Kidding, but not really.)

Whether you were appreciated by someone else or appreciated yourself, having expectations in our culture is normal and ... well, expected. We are brought up that way.

Having great expectations sounds great, however, when the expectation is unfulfilled, we bitch, we moan, we become disappointed. And that becomes a problem. If I expect you to love me a certain way, and your love doesn't show up that way for me, I’m mad. So it’s easy to imagine how quickly a person can get caught up on the one day that we, as a universe, celebrate love.

For weeks leading to Valentine’s Day, we are immersed in all things love. We let advertisers, acquaintances and strangers define what our love is supposed to look like. So, even though you or I am content with the love we’re getting, we find ourselves questioning that love or putting new - and sometimes unrealistic - pressure on that love, and for what? So that Hallmark, the flower delivery industry, the candy biz and restaurant franchises can get richer. We spend time hating on those who had picture-perfect Valentine’s weekends instead of finding the goodness in what we've got at home.

A good friend once said to me when I was feeling a little envious about her Valentine's Day, "Shall I tell you about the Valentine's Day that he didn't come home at all?"

That was a stark reminder that the color of love reflected in our lives today may have not been so vibrant in a different season. By the way, her Valentine’s Day this year was less than stellar, so I hope she will be uplifted by these words.

Here’s my point: Last year this time, when I posted the blog, "What Color is Your Love?" I was not in the best place in my life. In fact, my love was downright moody blue. But every situation and season brings a lesson. And what I've learned is that one of the best things you can do if you blog, journal or just have a good memory is to look back at where you were a year ago. You learn one of two things: How blessed you now are or how blessed you were then - and they’re both excellent lessons.

A year ago, I was on a new job in a new city, and my boys were in a new school. I moved forward a day at a time, a step a time, keeping my goal in front of me, which was essentially to make my babies’ transition as easy as I possibly could. And I did that. Their first year went very well. Meanwhile, I’ve had to deal with car issues, nanny issues, housing issues, puppy issues and yes, issues of the heart. We call it life, but at the time, it seemed like no matter what I did, nothing would fall into place.

I made it through, and upon reflection about what I would do differently, I discovered I was taking care of everyone and everything but myself and that, in actuality, my biggest challenge weren’t the issues going on around me, but inside me. I wasn't finding time to love on myself. And that’s not cool.

So, at some point, I decided that, no matter how foreign it felt, I absolutely had to build some “me” time into my schedule – even if that meant saying no to friends, family and the J.O.B.

And there are a dozen ways to do this. Spend an extra 15 minutes in the tub before you go to bed. Stop and get a manicure after work - before you get home. Trade babysitting time with your girlfriends, and go read a book in the park.

But my biggest tip is to teach your children how to entertain themselves while you recharge your batteries. I’m not suggesting that you sit them in front of the television or stick a video game in their hand - although sometimes you've got to do whatever it takes to get it done. But it’s an awfully neat trick if you can teach your children to take time for them while you take time for you. Whether it’s drawing, reading, building a Lego skyscraper, writing in their journal or taking tons of random pictures with a disposable camera like my youngest son – If your kids are older, how about letting them go to a movie without you? It’s amazing what you can get accomplished in two hours. And to make it a learning experience for your children, make them write a movie review ... maybe they can post their own blog.

The point is to get in touch with yourself and your needs, and I’m here to tell you that it can altar the shades of your world. Suddenly, my love is multi-colored, vibrant and new.

When I look back at last year’s blog, some of those feelings I had then are almost unrecognizable, while others are still on point.

How about you? Where were you a year ago compared with today? Has your love gotten brighter, duller or remained the same? If it’s brighter, congratulations. Figure out what’s working and how you can keep it that way. If it’s duller, what can you learn from your transition?

And if it’s the same, spice it up, spruce it up and - to coin a dated phrase - let your freak flag fly, no matter what color it may be.

Even if you’re the only one watching.

Food for Thought

Of course my stomach would start growling as soon as I start to put my thoughts regarding food on paper. I stayed strong, though, and congratulated myself on a little victory. But as I prepared Tom and the crew for an interview with First Lady Michelle Obama about her new initiative to battle childhood obesity, I realized that little victory is part of a lifelong love/hate relationship with food.

In the good times and in the bad times, food always plays a starring role in my life. And I’m not alone. For most people – African-Americans especially - it's part of our mourning process, relationship rituals and our meeting procedures.

Perfect example: If you went to - or hosted - a Super Bowl party on Sunday, then you know that the only thing second to having a decent sized television to watch the big game on was the menu. In fact, for some people there, the food was THE most important thing, and if it wasn’t on point, you were getting clowned by your guests during the car ride home.

It's not a bad thing necessarily, but I think it becomes troublesome when we allow food to overshadow the real purpose of why we’re gathering. In other words, what would happen if we dared to take food out of the mix? I've been doing that lately - or at least trying to.

Now, I’m not talking about not eating, but just not letting food "consume" me; pardon the pun. Believe me when I say the hungry hearts club is a lonely place to be. People are very uncomfortable, annoyed and even suspicious of you if you choose not to eat at or attend an event because you're just not that into food, or trying not to be, at least.

The idea of having large amounts of food at even the most mundane of occasions is relatively recent and ties into our country's rise in obesity. Huge feasts were once relegated to Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter dinners. Some families went hard every Sunday, but even that doesn’t compare with all the big-food opportunities we have now. Even movies are now so closely associated with food, some movie theaters are literally restaurants that happen to be showing a film.

Asking employees to go the extra mile without ordering a pizza is like slapping them in the face. Book club meetings, work meetings, dates and church meetings all are wrapped around food.

The women from Mt. Zion Church of God Holiness in Dayton, Ohio know this well. They were recently featured on "The Oprah Winfrey Show" after one member wrote in about her family’s history of diabetes and the unhealthy foods served at the church. Half of the church’s adult members are diabetic.

We know that as African-Americans, we are more susceptible to heart disease, diabetes, hypertension and certain kind of cancers that are linked to obesity. Much of the time, obesity - or a least the poor eating habits that will eventually lead to obesity - starts during childhood. Like their parents, kids think of every celebration, every movie, every sporting event, etc., as an opportunity to eat.

We can start doing better by making some of the small steps the First Lady threw out, like playing games outdoors with our kids or replacing the juice boxes in their lunches with a bottle of water. We can also turn the tide a little by having children’s parties that are more about fun activities like skating or bowling and less about food.

About 32 percent of children and adolescents are obese, putting them at risk for high cholesterol and diabetes.

Habits are hard to break. But they’re impossible to break if we don’t at least make an effort. And why not start at home, especially if you have kids?

Getting our children’s eating habits in check is probably one of the most important things we can do for not only their physical health but their mental health as well. We talk often about the physical ailments that can stem from carrying too much weight, but our children’s self-esteem and self-image suffer as well.

I know how much negative comments about my weight affected me when I was growing up. Most of the women on my mother’s side of the family are petite by anyone’s standards, so I was often teased for being larger than my cousins, even when they were much older than me. It had a profound effect on me, and the hurt feelings still pulse beneath the surface whenever we’re together. As an adult, I understand that they were not trying to be mean, but the six-year-old in me still needs a hug every once in awhile when I think about it.

So, not only was I appalled when a doctor informed me and my eight-year-old son that he was overweight – I was mad. No doubt, both of my sons are larger than most children their age, and although I don’t label it as hidden racism, I certainly don’t believe that I should make them fit in to the cookie-cutter European standards for height and weight. And even if weight was an issue for him, I certainly didn’t think he needed to hear it the way that he did.

So when the doctor said it a second time and laughingly told my child to leave the sweets alone, I was crushed and - with the risk of sounding dramatic – saddened as I watched just a little bit of sorrow leave as the hurt and doubt crept in. My heart breaks all over again when, months later, he still asks whether or not I think he should be on a diet.

And for our beautiful little girls, it’s even worse.

Recent medical findings have suggested that black women are 50 percent more likely to suffer from bulimia nervosa than white women are, that poor women are more likely to experience bulimia than rich girls are and that bulimia affected 1.5 percent of girls in households where at least one parent had a college degree.

Our lives and our kids’ lives could depend on us getting our stuff together. We can hope that the government, food makers and schools make adjustments, but in the end, it’s up to individual parents and the examples we set.

If food is in center of everything we do, how can we give it less importance?

Instead of meeting your girls for lunch, how about meeting them for a walk or for a pedicure? Instead of celebrating a job change with big a lunch or dinner, how about a visit to a nice day spa? Instead of rewarding our own accomplishments with comfort food, how about buying a good book or a pair of shoes?

If you’ve figured out some helpful, healthy hints that have made a difference, share your ideas. I can’t be the only mom who has gone to bed with feelings of guilt for letting my six-year-old have a Lunchable for dinner. (Just once, I promise.) Michelle Obama’s "Let’s Move" initiative - check out her interview with us in "If You Missed It" - should be a wake-up call for us all.

I don’t know about you, but I doubt if my boys will ever inherit huge amounts of money and property. But what I can leave them is the tools for having a healthy body, mind and soul. That's priceless.

Living with Less

The crisis in Haiti is a stark reminder of how little so many others are able to live on. Of course, it’s not just in Haiti; it’s all over the world and in our own backyard. How many times do you see people appear to be perfectly happy living with a lot less than you have?

The other day, one of our producers circulated an article called, “What Could You Live Without?” which immediately struck a chord with me and my circle of friends for a variety of different reasons, I’m sure.

I had just had a conversation a couple days earlier about having moved three separate times and still had boxes that had never been unpacked; just moved from one place to the next. I had decided those were clearly items that I could live without and had either trashed or donated the contents. I also have a storage unit with things that I guess I still want - some because they mean something to me, but I just don’t have room for them, and others simply because I purchased them, and they belong to me. But really, if they’re stored away and neither I or my boys are using them, what’s the use of keeping them?

How many of us have stuff we feel entitled to but don’t really need? Why is it so hard to part with them? I think the only way to deal with it honestly is determine what stuff represents in our lives.

Most of us go through a period where the stuff that we own defines us in a way. After all, when we’re in college, working toward landing our dream jobs, we seldom are thinking in terms of the happiness that career will bring us or the service we will be providing others. We’re more likely to be thinking of the salaries we’ll earn and what material things we will be able to purchase. No judgment! It’s only natural to want our lifestyle to reflect our earnings, and in this material world, most of us are judged by our homes, our cars, our clothes, our jewelry and our purses.

But there comes in a time in our lives when we get a sort of wake-up call that makes us realize either we can or have to learn to live with less. And then, we come to see that the people who wanted to be around us because of our titles, cars and homes were not that important after all. It’s amazing how scarce those people become when either we or they begin to lose some of the stuff that had us so puffed up in the first place.

At some point, we begin to shed the things we thought we had to have, and it’s better when the decision to part with these things is ours. But either way, we learn that more isn’t always better.

The reality show "Hoarders" is an extreme view of our sometimes-pathological desire to hold on to things past their usefulness. My son Tyler’s favorite program, “Clean House,” (yes, he has a thing for Niecy Nash) is another more realistic look at how people can let too much stuff get the best of them, causing their houses and their families to look like a hot mess.

I’ve never been one to collect a lot of clutter in my home or in my life. When things and people are no longer useful - or I should say no longer helpful and positive - I’m pretty good about letting them go.

On the other hand, I have a friend who this Christmas realized that she hadn’t even put away some of the gifts she and her family got the previous year. Her tendency to hold on to stuff, people and issues adds a lot of unnecessary stress to her cluttered life. She has to determine for herself what she needs to let go of and what she needs to keep.

Over the last few years, I’ve downsized my life in all kinds of areas, but I’ve tried to upgrade where it counts, hoping to reach the balance most of us strive for. I’m not there yet. But I’m close.

I’ve been blessed with all the trappings that spelled out success professionally and personally. And I’ve also struggled. And through it all, God has been with me.

Philippians 4:12 says, "I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need."

What can you live without? What can your family live without? What can your kids live without? The people in Haiti - many of whom probably thought they were living with as little as they could before that earthquake struck - found out they could live with even less.

We Are the World

The earthquake that plunged Haiti into darkness is another blow to a nation that has seen more than its share of misery.

My heart weeps for Haiti and her children.

The situation in Haiti has been so challenging for so many years, due to politics, poverty, prior natural disasters, etc. But this current situation is truly catastrophic.

Watching as Haitians piled bodies along the devastated streets of their capitol after the strongest earthquake in more than 200 years hit the poor Caribbean nation is almost more than I could bear.

And there was no discrimination – thousands of structures, from schools and shacks to the National Palace and the U.N. peacekeeping headquarters were crushed.

The devastation was so complete that it seemed likely the death toll could run well into the thousands – and I think that is a conservative estimate. Seeing the faces filled with pain and desperation, hearing the stories of unimaginable horror and hopelessness brought the same rush of feelings that I experienced during Hurricane Katrina.

At that time, I was hosting the morning show in Chicago, and we took call after call from people who were missing family members or friends and couldn't get in touch with them because of the power outage and downed phone lines. One in particular - Nate - was on the phone with his fiancée and three children when the water started to seep, then gush, into their home. This was Monday. The line went dead as he begged them to press towels under the door to stop the flow of water. He hasn't talked to them since. It broke my heart.

I remember the turmoil that we faced in 2004 when my mother was in Jamaica spending time with her mother, and Hurricane Ivan wreaked havoc on the islands of Barbados, St. Vincent and Grenada. It spared Jamaica its full fury, but it still destroyed homes and infrastructures and killed at least 16 people.

We were unable to reach my mom for two days. It was the longest two days of my life, but she made it home to her husband, two children and six grandchildren - not like the mother who begged her husband to just let her go so he could save her children. He doesn't know if she made it or not.

In light of the tragedy in New Orleans, a co-worker vowed to mend a relationship with his estranged father of more than 30 years who made it safely out of the city. And others have just vowed to reconnect with estranged family members or friends. Sometimes it takes destruction of this magnitude to make miracles happen.

The earthquake in Haiti has been estimated to be 10 times more devastating than Hurricane Katrina. But that allows for 10 times the blessings to flow from such a tragic situation.

The show will be traveling to Haiti today and will broadcast from Port-au-Prince tomorrow morning (Friday, Jan. 15th). Tom’s goal is to set up a communication center that would allow the Haitian community to contact their loved ones in the states and abroad to give them some assurances that they are okay.

My thoughts and prayers are continuously with the millions who could have so easily been you or I, and I can’t help but wonder how those who have been dealt such devastation can ever rest easy again. I'm not sure how any of us can.

It is time to go about the business of healing and rebuilding, not only at home but globally. And not just for the immediate, but long term.

We are our brother’s keeper, but we haven’t been taking very good care of each other.

Time after time we get reminders that we should not wait until a tragedy strikes to realize who's important to us and why. If you're blessed enough to be in reach of someone you love, let them know today. But it’s also time to start treating the world as family.

There may not be much that you can do to help in Haiti – even though I would stress that every little bit counts – but there are some situations in your own community, block and home that need help.

What change can you make today?

I challenge you to start an earthquake of your own. A good deed done today will send aftershocks for a long time to come.

The Other Ms. Woods

So, the Tiger Woods saga continues.

I tried really hard to stay out of it. Well, maybe I didn’t try all that hard. But it really is like kicking a two-legged kitten when he’s down.

But now Tiger Woods is rumored to have offered his wife millions of dollars to stay in their marriage. If he was so interested in staying married, then maybe he should have kept his putter at home.

And needless to say, Mrs. Woods (Not me; I'm Ms. Woods!) was not happy.

I don't know which came first: A wife actually bopping her husband in the head with a frying pan or the depiction of a man getting bopped by his wife in a comedy sketch. Whether life was imitating art or vice versa, most of us chuckle at the idea of a disgruntled wife handling her business with a skillet.

So the idea of Tiger's pissed-off wife getting in a few good ones with a golf club will probably provide years of material for comedians, and radio and TV hosts. I admit, it tickled me too. But God always finds a way to straighten me out.

Earlier this week, at the same time I was enjoying the idea of Mrs. Tiger Woods chasing her man with a nine iron, my six-year-old was in a match with the edge of a shelf in his closet, and the shelf won. The gash in his head required staples, and as I watched him endure that pain, I thought of Tiger being hit in the face with a metal golf club. And it wasn't that funny. Then I wondered how I would feel if 10 or 20 years down the road, a woman - any woman - took out her anger on my son with a golf club, a baseball bat or even a frying pan, whether he deserved it or not. And that REALLY wasn't funny.

Virtually all sociological data shows women initiate domestic violence as often as men, that women use weapons more than men, and that 38 percent of injured victims are men.

So why don’t we hear more about this? Shouldn’t the media give as much attention to men who suffer abuse at the hands of their mate as they do women?

I was blessed to grow up in a home where my parents were (and are to this day) openly affectionate and always showed mutual respect for each other. Resorting to violence has never been a viable option for me, and I doubt that it will be one for my sons, who have learned from their father and me that hitting girls and women is not acceptable.

But who knows what the girls and women they choose in the future will have learned from their environments? Going upside my sons' heads may come as naturally to them as breathing. I don't have daughters, but I hope those of you who do will teach them that getting hit by men is unacceptable, but hitting men is unacceptable as well.

If Tiger's wife really beat him with a golf club we should be as outraged as we were when we heard about Chris Brown and so should the news media.

I've been mad enough at men at various times in my life to strike a man, but I don’t for a lot of reasons. Aside from it being wrong, I’m smart enough to know that usually when you hit a person, they’re inclined to hit you back out of retaliation or reflex. No plans to go down that road.

Sometimes the lessons you learn when you’re in kindergarten hold up. I was taught to just walk away until the waters are calmer, and I suggest you follow that rule and teach it to your children. Better to have that conversation with them now. And trust me, if they’ve seen you hit your man or get hit by him, cuss him out or get cussed out by him or just say hurtful things in the heat of anger, you’re teaching them way more than you know. Plus, you're creating potential problems for your grown daughters - and my sons if they run into them.

Everyone, of course, doesn’t agree with my “just walk away” policy. If you don’t, is it because of what you were taught? Or do you just believe the only retaliation for some transgressions is a behind-whipping?

I really want to know what you think, so hit me back. And, uh, that’s just a figure of speech!