Good Night and Good Luck

Let us discuss sleep.

Critical to our physical and mental well-being, sleep is a very important process when it comes to continuing health. Sleep is a natural restorative cycle. It allows the body to rest and properly regenerate itself. So that the body can continue to function appropriately.

You don’t know what restorative means? You can’t understand regenerate?

Well, if you want me to be nice to you, to be overjoyed to see you, to give you loves and tickles and rainbows all day, to happily drive you around from about 8 am to 6 pm, five days a week, and provide you with at least three meals and several dozen snacks of a wide and nutritious variety, let me sleep.

If you want me to read you Ricky Ricotta’s Mighty Robot vs. the Mutant Mosquitoes from Mercury at least once and possibly several times—in a row—without rolling my eyes, barfing or losing my mind, let me sleep.

If you want me to listen to one hundred and four rather unfunny variations of:

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Orange.

Orange who?

Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?

Let me sleep!

And just so we’re clear: By “sleep” I mean a solid 6, 7 or even 8 (*gasp*) hours of me, lying in a reclining position, covered with some form of a blanket. In the dark. And quiet. With my eyes closed.

Here’s what sleep isn’t:

If I’m fetching you anything, even water, at 2 am, I’m not asleep.

If we’re hugging, I’m not asleep.

Conversation of any kind means I’m not asleep.

If I’m freezing cold and have no blankets because you’ve decided you’re sweating and the covers must be kicked off, it is quite likely I’m not asleep.

And if you’re using your cute little chubby fingers to force up my eyelids, then I’m definitely not asleep.

I’m sure you’ve noticed but not sleeping makes me bitter. It also makes me look ragged and that makes me really bitter because then I don’t just look tired—I look tired and old.

So … either sleep—without moving, talking or doing the macarena—or go back to your own bed.

Or even better, you stay here with your dad and I will go sleep in your bed. Alone.

Good night.


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Do As I Say, Not As I Do

I’ve been mulling around this post for quite some time now. I think there is something to discuss when it comes to our diverse ideas of what makes someone a “good” or “bad” parent. I also think there are some things we can try to hash out as a group (and guests!)

Growing up, did we not always hear our parents say how they always want us to have more than they had, be better than they were? And did we not often have times when our parents did or said things that made us pause for a moment or made us think “Wow, but they said I couldn’t do that!”  The universal response has almost always been:

“Do as I say, not as I do”

I thought about this because I have a pretty foul mouth and my son has picked up some curses. I do not curse AT him or anything (I hate that), but I occasionally let a curseword slip by when I’m around him. It is usually when I’m driving. You understand. I am working on teaching him that he should not curse, but here iss the rub: I am not opposed to cursing, as a rule. I do not feel right telling him he cannot ever curse because I believe when he is older, he can speak as he wants to. I do, however, feel compelled to teach him that he cannot do so now, as a child, and as he gets older, I will teach him about times and place where it would be inappropriate to use such language.  Growing up, I’d never curse around my father. Now, we curse when speaking to each other occasionally. I’ll never forget when I was about 25, my dad dropped the F-bomb and said “Well, you’re old enough now. I know you curse, you know I curse.” Our relationship was forever changed by a four-letter word lol.  This is just one example.

There are things I do, that I do not think are necessarily wrong for an adult to do, but I do not want my son picking up or doing right now.  I battle with feeling like a hypocrite. Someone said I am too liberal a parent and that I need to keep it “old school”.  Here is the thing though… old school is not always right. In fact, “old school” includes a LOT of things I am very much against, with regard to child-rearing. I was called a liberal parent, as if it were a bad thing. I do not see a problem with making certain allowances for your child, if that is how you want your child to be raised. Understanding society’s limitations and expectations, however, I feel compelled to make sure my son learns certain ways of being so as to not get into “trouble”. As a Black male, he is “trouble” by virtue of his existence, if you let some people tell it. So I feel even more conflict in the things I let him do, the things I teach him, and how far I let him go.

When my son asks me about drinking, I’ll tell him, like my mother told me, he can drink when he can buy alcohol. I started drinking at 14. First time I got drunk, I as so hungover, my mother said, “Now you see what I mean”. She did not beat me, ground me, or anything. I did not drink again for at least three years. I grew up knowing my mother smoked marijuana. She supported its legalization, as do I.  She taught me that smoking it was not wrong, but that it was something adults should do. I do not think she was wrong for teaching me that.

So I bring it to you, dear readers… are there things you do that you do not necessarily want your children doing, but feel weird telling them that?

Are there things you are OK with your children doing now or in the future that others may frown upon? How do you handle that?

Black Weblog Awards

It’s that time of year again!

Nominations are being accepted for the Black Weblog Awards!!

While Cocoa Mamas is a fairly new blog, we’d like to think we offer insightful, intelligent, and relatable commentary on raising brown children in this world. We would love to get the word out about our blog and what better way than winning a Weblog award?

So, readers, subscribers, contibutors, pelase take a moment to go to Black Weblog Awards and nominate us in a few categories, namely Best Parenting Blog, Best New Blog, Best Group Blog, and Best Blog people don’t know about

Thanks,

Cocoa Mama Benee 🙂