Tots, booty cheers and soapboxes.

Have I mentioned how much I love Blogher? Finally, thought provoking and relevant mommy blogs.

/rant

I must need more coffee today. Anyhoo...

In response to: Child Kicked Off Squad When Mother Protests Cheer

I know that one day I will be faced with Addison wanting to join a cheer squad or dance squad, and while I love the socialization and activity aspect of it, I do fear the sexification aspect. Perhaps, I'm just over analyzing, it is my nature though. Personally, I would stand full support with this mother and any other that stood against these cheers. Our children have to grow up too soon already... do we really need to push them closer to that line of innocence early, too? 

Read the below article and tell me: where do you stand? 

BlogHer: Child Kicked Off Squad When Mother Protests Cheer

September 21, 2010 5:00 am by Nordette Adams

The world has changed. In our effort to accept all cultures as equal and worthy of respect under the banners of multiculturalism and democracy as well as our human tendency to pass on practices while forgetting origin and context, we arrive at controversy. Let's look at the case of the recently great Michigan "Booty Cheer" drama. 

Most of us who are parents share concerns about the sexualization of children, especially little girls dressing as scantily as exotic dancers or mimicking Beyonce's moves while singing her hit "Single Ladies." Consequently, we readily agree that six-year-old Kennedy Tesch's mother was right. The so-called "cheer" taught to little Kennedy's cheerleading squad that roots for the Madison Heights flag football team was inappropriate: "Our backs ache/our skirts are too tight/we shake our booties from left to right."

For questioning the appropriateness of this chant, however, the mother was not rewarded but penalized. Her daugher was kicked off the cheering squad. Well, that hardly seems fair.

If you watch the MSNBC video on the story, you may surmise, as I have, that kicking Kennedy off the squad was much more about punishing her mother for challenging authority and going public with the story than it was about any love of the grand old "booty cheer."

As Tashi Singh asks "Was it worth hurting a child, her parents, and ultimately the reputation of the school in order to keep some silly cheerleading chant?"

Singh is not the only one asking that question to which they answer may be crazy things happen when human egos are on the line. The other question arising from the story is this, "Is that actually a cheer and where did it come from?"

I was born in 1960, am 50 years old, and was raised in the African-American community of New Orleans, La. When this story came to my attention in email, I responded that the infamous "booty cheer" is a marching chant or cadence, and I remember hearing variations of it as a child and teen. One of those is this one:

"To the right, to the left, to the right, left, right.
My back is aching,
My drawers too tight,
My booty's shaking from left to right.
To the left, to the right, to the left right left.

The words shift with time and audience. When adopted by girls "drawers" become "bra." In cleaner versions "bra" becomes "shoes," or "drawers" become "pants" or "belts" and "booty" becomes "hips."

I remember hearing this chant outside while playing with other children and as I got older, possibly on the bus following a football game while the boys beat out the rhythm on the back of bus seats. Checking around the Web, I recalled hearing other adaptations that came after my playground years that were used by cheerleaders along with "Bang Bang Choo Choo Train," and someone said in the email thread that she recalls the "booty cheer" as part of Double Dutch jump rope games.
Continued after jump...

Tapeworms are what keep me thin.

I heart the sideways glances I get when people learn I don’t have cable television [and I have no plans to, either].

We all bitch about the effects of reality television and how it stagnates our brains. We complain about television raising our children [and God help us, for that]. Our daughters, sisters and girlfriends frown each morning in the mirror thinking of the Heidi’s, Lindsay’s and Kim’s. But my favorite part of all is this: we invite it in. We make it dinner and ask it to stay the night. And when the world bears down on us, we turn to it to console us.

When will we realize there are healthier options? Just because it’s there, doesn’t mean you have to watch/read/listen/buy/abuse it. But, it’s so much easier to sit and melt away; complaining of this bullshit society flings and wonder where our yesteryear morals have escaped to, isn’t it?

Its amazing how much of yourself you find when you stop letting pop-culture tell you who you should be.

{Jumps off soap box} I seem to be spending a lot of time on that thing lately. Next time I’ll bring my markers to make it look a little prettier. Decorate it Lisa Frank style, eh @jelliebraden?

Song of the moment:

Pet Shop Boys – I’m With Stupid.

They weren't joking when they said there was going to be a test later.

Is it possible to create confidence while under influence?

I was talking with a friend the other day about weight and calories and all that crap that so many women care about. I walked away with two thoughts…

First was: within the last year and a half, I literally cannot remember a time I looked in the mirror and told myself I needed to lose weight or really even gave a rat’s ass about how my body looked. For a girl who forced her lunch up throughout her teens and overindulged to the point of obesity in her early twenties, I’m pretty proud of where I am now. So what if I have a mommy belly that’s determined to nevereverever snap back and a little extra junk in the trunk… I am woman. Hear me roar…and step away from my burger, dammit.

Second thought was: Shit.

Raising my daughter to be confident and strong in this superficial world is going to take more work than I anticipated and boy! I've anticipated a lot.  I laugh at the irony of this, though; the little girl who never left the house alone, cried herself to sleep because her step-dad / sister / husband / neighbor’s first-cousin’s best-friend’s mother said something once to make me feel insecure, molding a highly impressionable little girl. We’re starting with the ‘What Not to Do’ version, I guess.  I have a beautiful daughter… inside and out. And each time I hear my girlfriends fret and stew over their appearance, I can’t help but think of Addi… and it forces me to loudly and sometimes, dramatically, sigh.

My great-grandmother once told me something that had to do with regretting worrying so much about her appearance in her youth because by the time she had the maturity to just be herself, she was too old to enjoy that emotional freedom. I was too young and affected to pay attention to what she was saying then… my demons were drowning her out.  If only I had paid more attention to her… to all my grandmothers… when I was younger, I could lean on their words for some footing here.

Ever since that conversation with my girlfriend, I’ve been thinking about the how’s and the why’s, trying to come up with ideas and practices to start engaging in for my daughters benefit.  And because I talk to myself all the time… well, silently… but still… my internal voices keep asking random questions. Why do we women chain ourselves down with these ridiculous notions about weight and appearance?  Is it the men we’re trying to impress? Each other? Is it the negative influence of those damn Kardashians and the Lohan’s?  Why do we limit ourselves so much and let these societal influences control us?  And who, what, when and where did I stop caring?

The part that burns me… the part that makes me want to grab the microphone and start rapping on top of my soap box is why are we settling and letting someone or something else dictate how we present ourselves? When did we, as a culture, become so arrogant that we thought we had the right to force out individuality and uniqueness?

Just one more single momma with a lot on her mind.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about other people. More specifically, their opinions about how we raise our children as single parents. I've been sitting on this post for a couple weeks and Ms Single Mama beat me to the punch the other day with her brilliant post, My Decision. Once again, we seem to be living in parallel universes. I guess at some point we all encounter this situation… single parents or not. Someone, somewhere always has an opinion about how you’re raising your child and the ways in which you are failing.

I became virtually introduced to Ms Single Mama a couple years ago when she first started blogging… blogging about raising her little boy alone. At the time, my daughter was very little and I was merely emotionally alone. I had a partner, who was doing the best he could. I just couldn’t see it. Becoming a mother was the scariest and most brilliant moment of my life and I sought refuge and gained strength and insight from her words.

I’ve been blogging for a while… December 2006, I believe was my first post. It originated from the notion of keeping family and friends on the west coast apprised of the change and discoveries within our life here in Chicago, but actually turned out to be a door to one of the greatest support systems I’ve ever experienced.

I’ve a handful of friends who get all dreamy when they think about raising their kids alone… no partner to appease, come and go as you please, etc. It makes me laugh when they see it as something glamorous. Wasn’t it just a few years ago being a single mother was the equivalent of wearing the Scarlet A?

Truth is there isn’t much that’s easy about this. There’s the balance between work and home – working just enough to keep the electricity on and still spend quality time with your kid. Questions you’re not ready to answer – why doesn’t daddy live here? The constant wonder of how your decisions will shape their future. And then there’s the dating. And most of us just give up on it. But then when we’ve no date for Thanksgiving dinner we’re up against all the looks and the age-old idea that a child needs two live-in parents in order to result in a healthy functioning member of society. It’s exhausting. But it’s still the best damn job I’ve ever had.

This blog of mine has now become my little corner of the world where I say what I want about whom and rant about the things that aggravate me and work through any lingering questions or emotions I might have while showing off the best of me; my daughter. It’s unrealistic to think that this blog accurately exemplifies my everyday life. It is simply the Swiss cheese representation. There are literally 2 maybe 3 other people in my life who get the rest of the “cheese”, if you will. They know the background stories; why becoming a mother was so scary for me; they know why, when and whom raised my emotional wall and they are fully aware of what it will take to tear it down, they see the interaction with my daughter, they know her and how stable and amazing she is. Point is… these are people who get it… the work, the dedication, the sacrifices, the emotional strain and triumph these Spencer girls have gone through.

Sure, I put my stories out here, let everyone draw their conclusions… and some fail to see the whole picture and take things at face value. But then there are the others, that read, ask and interact… and it’s your selflessness, intelligence and compassion that I love about this whole adventure. There are always nay-sayers, people who attack with prejudice and inexperience. There are always those that don’t understand your vision and appreciate your struggles… and being the stubborn woman that I am with the schedule that I maintain, I’ve just no time or patience for such arrogance.

Insecurity raises my defenses, but Ms Single Mama said it best in her post ‘when you’re up against a pre-conceived image of yourself how do you fight that?’ I’m a damn good mother and I’m not going to live in fear of a few sideways opinions. My daughter is healthy, happy and loves life. She’s intelligent and compassionate, stubborn and strong-willed. She’s resilient. Just like her mommy. And that’s the way... uh huh uh huh… I like it.

Hugs to all my readers; supporters and otherwise. You all keep me going… even if it is in different ways.

Exercising my big mouth and the freedom to use it.

Brooke Burke is known as today's modern mother? Since when? And what makes her so worthy of such a title?

This irritates me. Celebrity moms drive me nuts... so its soapbox time. I stayed home with Addi today and actually told a friend "stay-at-home mothers were either super-heroes or a few fries short of a happy meal." It's exhausting; emotionally, mentally and physically to give that much of yourself to someone each day. So, today, while taking a break I looked over one of the feed folders for just such an occasion, 'No Brains Required'. It's a mash-up of celebrity blogs and fashion nonsense that I have compiled around the Internet. I really don't buy into that crap, but some of my friends do and well... it's great mindless fodder.

My "me time" was quickly broken up by the smiling faces of the Holmes', Klume's, Alba's, Fischer's, and Hayek's running to and fro in their marvelous frocks and perfect hair chatting up what a blessing motherhood is and how it's changed their lives. How? Now instead of having an entourage of 15, you have 20: the nanny for child a, the nanny for child b, the nutritionist, their driver and their personal bodyguard? How much time must they spend in the gym to get that silver screen body back? I hardly doubt their infant is at their feet while they are running away on the treadmill. It must be exhausting running from salon to spa to boutique while some lady your Agent or Publicist chose to watch your "little miracle" stays behind playing peek-a-boo. They've landed the ultimate acting gig.

I hate Hollywood. I hate magazine covers and fashion ads. But most of all, I hate reading stories of these mothers who don't spend enough time with their children and are the reason so many of our children are starving themselves and giving in... giving in and never feeling worthy enough. I went through all of that as a child and even as a very young adult; starving, hating, cutting, disappearing. Now as a mother, its being thrown in my face again? Brooke Burke is Today's Modern Mother? No way.... I throw rocks at that.