On Recognizing Kids As Fully Human

This meme knows my life.

Real talk: I'm not a morning person. Matter of fact, most mornings I'm cranky as hell. 

Also, I'm cranky when I don't get enough sleep. Or when I'm home and want to take a nap, but can't. Or when someone in my house wakes me up from a nap. Or when I'm hungry. Hangry. 

Or when I think things are stupid, but I have to do them anyway. (That makes me really cranky.)

And you know what? 

Because I'm grown, I get to "get away" with being cranky for the most part. (I mean, I don't walk around with an attitude or anything, but if folks know that I'm not in a good mood, they tend to leave me alone. Or hold the space for me as I work through my feelings.)

Here's the thing though: that's not the norm for our kids. Generally kids aren't offered that same level of grace. If kids are having a rough day or a rough moment, it's seen as disrespectful or unacceptable. 

In fact, I've found that so much of motherhood (Black motherhood) has been folks looking at me to prove to them that I have control over my kids.

But motherhood has taught me to accept my children as fully human. And that means holding the space for them to experience the gamut of human emotions. 

The other day, Aiden was super moody as I was helping him with his homework. Actually, he walked into the house in a funk, went to his room, sat on his bed for a few minutes, and then came out into the living room. When I asked him if he wanted to talk about his day, he declined. 

That's cool. 

But I told him that I'm here for him if he wanted to talk about anything. I left the space for him to just... be.

While we were going over his homework, he was snappy. I checked him when he tried to direct his energy towards me. I told him that he's allowed to be in a bad mood, but he's not allowed to speak to me any 'ol way. 

I asked him if he wanted a hug, he declined. 

That's cool. 

Again, I told him that I'm here for him. And we continued with his history assignment. 

Ten minutes later, he wanted a hug. So we did that. And I could feel the release as we embraced. 

The thing is: I could have easily yelled at him or sent him to his room for being "rude" or grounded him or took away his phone for his behavior. I could have easily seen his behavior as unacceptable.

But I didn't.

Because kids are allowed to be cranky. And because kids are allowed to be in a funk. And because kids are allowed to be in a bad mood. Just as much as adults are allowed. And it's my job to help Aiden navigate and make sense of these tricky feelings instead of punishing him for them. 

And that's what I'll continue to do. 

Special

August has an Autism diagnosis.

There. I said it. 

Out loud.

(Wrote it. Online.)

It actually feels like a relief to write it here because now I can normalize it in public.

Whew!

By the time he turned 1 ½, I had a hunch that there was something special about August. I've written about it on the Mommy Delicious Facebook page before. I’d been reading books to him, speaking to him, and doing all the activities that I did with Aiden with him… but he didn’t respond in the same way.

His speech and language were not like Aiden’s were at the same age. (But then again, I thought Aiden was a baby genius because he and I were having full blown conversations by the time the kid was 18 months.)

I remember thinking that I made it too easy for August not to use his words because I accepted him pointing to objects or using two-word phrases to communicate his needs.

I remember thinking that I needed to read more books to him or do more activities with him in order to develop his speech.

Then I remember thinking that I just needed to chill and not compare him to his older brother.

All of these things were true.

So I did my due diligence, did all the things I said I’d do to “catch him up,” and waited it out. Then I noticed that he started to play with his toys in a way that was… interesting. He’d twirl a string for hours on end, he’d look at his toy cars and buses and trucks on an angle to watch the wheels go round and round. And he’d fixate.

Real talk: his fixation game is strong. 

By the time he turned 2 ½, August could identify every letter of the alphabet (both lower case and upper case, both in order and out of order), say the sound associated with each letter, identify every number from 0-20, count from 1-20, count backwards from 10-1, label shapes (including things like "hexagons." I mean, what 2-year-old calls something a hexagon?!), and recite entire books like it’s nobody’s business.

All of this was very… interesting.

So HEB and I agreed to get him evaluated. 

I learned that the process could be long and draining and sometimes frustrating. 

Aight, bet... I just had to brace myself for a battle. 

I also learned that on the Childhood Autism Rating Scale (CARS), you need to score at least a 30 in order to receive the Autism diagnosis and get the services. 

Aight, bet. 

So when the Psychologist came to evaluate him, I emphasized all of his symptoms and pushed for him to receive the diagnosis so that he can also receive the services. He got a rating of 30.5. When the Speech Therapist came to evaluate him, I pushed for him to receive that service even though he is maniacal about labeling objects and knows a lot of words. When the Social Worker came to evaluate him, I pushed for her to get an Occupational Therapist out to my house asap because I knew he was very sensory-seeking and I needed the guidance of a professional.

Throughout the entire process, I realized that I didn’t need to “catch him up.” I just need to embrace his dopeness, love on his special-ness, and get him the services that he needs in order to thrive.

Through Early Intervention, August qualified for 20 hours of ABA therapy each week, speech therapy 3x/week, and OT 3x/week.

Now that he’s 3-years-old, we have to go through the entire evaluation process all over again in order to get him the same services as a preschooler. So I’m bracing myself for another battle.

But this time I feel more confident because no matter what happens, know this: August will be okay. Better than okay.

Because I’m his mother and I’ll make sure of it. I’ve fought for Aiden to have everything he needs to be happy andsuccessful.

And I’ll do the same for August. Always. All the days.

Rest ya understanding on that.

There's No Easy Phase of Parenting

I remember when Aiden was younger and I had to do everything for him. Feed him, bathe him, change his diaper, entertain him... you get the drift.

There were days that I was so exhausted that I couldn't wait until he got older. To me, Aiden getting older meant that he would be able to do so many things for himself.

And parenting would become easier.

Well, guess what?

Aiden is older now. Homeboy's eleven.

He's much more independent than he used to be. Matter of fact, Aiden manages his football schedule, he takes the subway to and from school by himself, he stays home alone for a couple of hours when I need to run an errand, and he's very efficient when helping with August.

But guess what?

Parenting did not become easier.

Because when Aiden forgets to text when he gets to school or gets home from school, I have a little mini-freak out. When Aiden gets all pre-teenagery and hormonal, I have to work extra hard to practice patience and understanding. When Aiden forgets a homework assignment or forgets to study for a test, after feeling a little bit of rage on the inside, I have to take deep breaths and get him back on track.

(Side note: Middle school ain't for the wimps. When did it become so hard with so many subjects and so many assignments from every... single... subject?)

I have to constantly talk to him about online safety and being aware of his surroundings, appropriate conversations and when to exit chat rooms, the fine line between things being funny and things being inappropriate.

How to be a leader and stand up for what's right.

Systematic racism.

Implicit bias.

How to control his impulses, especially if he's approached by police officers and/or authority figures. And especially when I'm not around.

Even though I'm preparing him for independence, in many ways, he needs me more now than he did when he was just a baby.

So, yeah... there's no easy phase of parenting.

We just have to learn as we go and hope for the best.

And always know that we're doing the best that we can.

This is Eleven

Aiden: Ugh! I don’t want to. Ugh! No!

Me: You don’t wanna follow directions? Fine. Bedtime.

Aiden: Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll listen.

This is eleven.

Eleven is backtalk and mini tantrums and everything being a biggest deal ever. Eleven is me learning how to deal with these pre-teen hormones while raising a free black boy who owns his feelings while raising a kind and respectful and responsible human.

Eleven is Aiden wanting space, together. Eleven is him wanting to watch YouTube videos on his phone for hours, but in the same room as me. Eleven is going in the next room to facetime his friends, but reading books cuddled up on my bed. Eleven is wanting to be alone, but wanting August to play on his bed.

Aiden: What’s an erection?

Me: It’s when your penis becomes enlarged. Or like, really firm.

Aiden: Is that like a ‘boner’?

Me: I guess that’s what some people call it. Erection is the scientific term.

This is eleven.

Eleven is hearing things from friends and feeling comfortable enough to come to me to get straight answers, clarifying answers. Eleven is asking the trickier questions and me trying my best to normalize and not stigmatize. Eleven is wanting privacy in the shower, but still calling me to condition his hair. Eleven is bath time battles. Still. Eleven is not wanting to take a shower, and then, not wanting to leave the shower.

Eleven is wanting independence and being nervous about said independence. Eleven is being excited to take the subway to school alone and being scared when the day finally arrives to actually take the subway to school alone. Eleven is doing homework alone and needing me to double check. Every. Single. Night. (#sendhelpnow) Eleven is no longer being afraid of the dark, but still sleeping with teddy bears and still wanting hugs and kisses before bedtime.

Aiden: I don’t like it when you and [HEB] tell me to stop dancing. Like, I’m not even bothering anybody.

Me: You’re right. You should dance anytime you feel like it. Just not in front the TV when I’m watching it.

Aiden: Deal!

This is eleven.

Eleven is speaking up and speaking out. All. The. Time. Eleven is me unlearning maladaptive responses and learning responsive discipline. Eleven is different from the way I was raised. Eleven is new for me, but normal for Aiden. I want it that way.

August: More yogurt?

Me: Aiden! Can you get him more yogurt please?

This is eleven. Eleven is having a built-in babysitter. Eleven is being my go-to person for all things August. Twenty times a day. Whether I need a diaper, baby wipes, his cup filled with water, a juice box, more yogurt, more pirate booty’s, more cereal, to turn on Mickey, to turn off Mickey… I call Aiden. Always.

Look at your career, they said.
[Alicia], baby use your head.
But instead I chose to use my heart.
Now the joy of my world lives in [Aiden].

This is eleven. 

Eleven is a perfectly imperfect and beautiful storm and I wouldn't have it any other way.

We made it. We're making it.

Onward. 

Why I Know I'm Getting This Motherhood Thing Right

Because I know I'm not perfect and I know that I mess some things up. Just check last week's post about all the things I do wrong in this Motherhood game. (Yes, the "M" should be capital. Always.)

Because I'm hella intentional and hella calculated and hella reflective about my parenting practices. And I'm always trying to be better tomorrow than I am today.

Because I've learned that meditation and "Me Time" is so important to my mental health. And I allow myself to indulge in it. Frequently. And freely.

Because I'm going to therapy and working on addressing my own ish. Because ain't nothing cute about raising these incredible babies if I'm not emotionally whole first.

Because my boys are incredible. All parts of them. Even the parts that I don't always like.

Because the way Aiden loves up on August makes my soul smile.

Because the tight hugs that August gives Aiden makes my heart happy.

Because when Aiden was going through his own drama, I didn't take the easy way out by just "spanking him one time". Because I think spanking is the easy way out.

Because I knew that it wasn't about me and all the things that I already did for him. Because I knew that he needed even more than I was already doing for him at the time. So I gathered a dream team of professionals to help me help him through.

Because I'm a Mama Bear during Aiden's IEP meetings. Because Speech Therapists and Occupational Therapists and Counselors and Psychologists are bae. All of 'em.

Word.

Because I learned phrases like, "pragmatic language skills" and "graphomotor skills" and "proprioceptive pressure activities" due to Aiden receiving various types of therapy throughout the week.

Because Aiden's dream team reminds me that he's perceptive, intelligent, athletic, and hardworking. Because they also remind me that he's extremely sensory/movement seeking... for the days when I'm at my wits end and need that gentle reminder.

Because I'm not ashamed that my baby needs these types of services because he's been hella successful academically and socially this year.

Because I'm fully aware that I'm privileged to even be able to have these types of services for Aiden because not every family has access to them.

Because August loves to read books and build blocks and knock blocks over and sing his ABC's.

Because August runs into my arms every morning when he sees me.

Because the way Aiden roots for August whenever he sings a song or says a new word or does just about anything is the very definition of Big Brother Magic.

Because my boys are happy and healthy and loved.

Because I know that that's all that really matters anyhow.

Why Sometimes I Think I'm Getting This Motherhood Thing All Wrong

Because August is 2-years-old and still uses his pacifier. And folks keep telling me that it's time for him to give it up, but I don't listen to them. I mean, I know he's not gonna walk into high school with a pacifier or go to college with it so I'm cool with him using it at two. But still...

Because despite all the books I read to him or all the songs I sing to him or all the talking I do with him, August is still not talking as much as Aiden was talking at his age. Heck, I used to forget that Aiden was only two because little dude was having big time conversations with me and his teachers and everyone around. August clearly understands what folks are saying and he's vocal about his wants and needs. But still...

Because somedays tantrums and backtalk are at the center of my life.

Because, speaking of backtalk, what the heck is in the water that these adolescents are drinking? And why the heck didn't anyone tell me that this phase of motherhood was coming down the pipeline? I mean, I know that Aiden is trying to assert himself and trying to assert his individuality (that's separate from me) and trying to find his way in the world that's scary and confusing and so many things. I "get" it. But still...

Because bedtime battles. 'Nuff said.

Because bath time battles.

Because I got Aiden interested in reading books and now he's excelling as a reader. But then we had to conquer math. And then I got him doing his thing in math and science and all that jazz. And now we have to conquer writing. And every time we get over one hurdle, there's another hurdle waiting like, "Hey y'all!".

Because it is a "we" thing and not a "he" thing because I'm in this with him. To guide him and cheer him on. Even when it's hard. But still...

Because it's always hard and never easy, especially if you wanna do this thing right.

Because there's always another mountain to climb.

Because once I master one phase of parenting, my kids seem to age-out of that phase and they're on to the next one. (That was a Jay-Z reference.)

Because I'm always playing catch-up with these ages and stages and phases and no one told me it would be like this.

Because I'm tired.

Because yesterday August was an infant and now homeboy's a full-on toddler. And yesterday was Aiden's first day of Pre-K and now he's about to graduate from elementary school and enter middle school.

Because middle schoolers in NYC travel to and from school by themselves and I'm not sure how I feel about that level of independence. Yet.

Because I still feel like I haven't told Aiden all the things he needs to know before he gets to middle school yet.

Because the days are long, but the years are short and I'm always racing against the clock to bottle it all up.

Even when I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. Sometimes.

Oh Twodles: Celebrating Two Years of August

Bubbles Galore!

I've been Mommy Delicious times two... for two years, y'all!

Last weekend, we celebrated August's 2nd birthday with his favorite character in the world -- Mickey Mouse! I've been all in my feels these past two weeks because I can't believe that I've kept the boys alive and safe and well and... happy! It's hard going from one to two kids because, like, they both have needs.

All the time.

At the same time.

And it's my job to show up and show out and make sure that they're needs are met.

I'm happy to report that, even with bumps along the way, I've been able to rock it out these past two years. Needless to say, it wasn't just a celebration of August and his awesomeness, it was a celebration for the entire family.

#bros 

We gathered some friends and headed to The Little Gym on the UWS, where the kids were able to run, jump, play, and flip out. Literally. The best part was seeing everyone love up on August.

A great time was had by all... especially my little Mickey obsessed toddler!

And because I'm obsessed with giving you the non-Instagram-worthy-highlight-reels version of events: Some folks cancelled either because of the snow or cold weather or life in general; We ordered way too much food and I've been eating the leftovers for lunch all week because I refuse to waste the money spent (silver lining?); At first, August was super scared of all the equipment overwhelmed by everything and super clingy to me, which, as you can imagine, was stressful; And I felt like I could have just bought a doggone bubble machine, set up shop in my living room, and watched as the little boy went to town with them because he basically played with bubbles the entire time. #ImJustSaying

Fantasy is what you want, but reality is what you need. #YeahISaidIt

And, of course, we all wore Mickey t-shirts. Because, why not?!

Happy birthday to my baby boy! Mommy super loves you!

{Kids Style File} Twining With Mickey

shirt and jeans: H&M | kicks: Vans | vest: BabyGap | smile: August 

True story: August loves Mickey Mouse. Like, loves. With all his heart. Matter of fact, these days the kid has been watching entirely too much Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Mickey and the Roadster Racers on TV. And I ain't even ashamed to say it. Because: live your best life, August.

Live. Your. Life!

The other day when we got home from Aiden's homecoming football game, this little babe walked into the living room, walked up to the TV, turned it on, climbed into his chair, made himself comfy, and settled in to watch Mickey.

All by his lonesome. As if he had a rough day and needed to relax.

Babies these days!

Peep the smile, y'all!

A lot like love...

Since Mickey is his homeboy (he needs that on a t-shirt, by the way), it was only fitting to do a fall-styled photoshoot with Mickey.

And August was all for it. Because: love!

August: What up, M?

Side profiling

We recently moved (more on that later) and it's been a whirlwind with unpacking, getting into the grove of things, and getting my Fixer-Upper-meets-Property-Brothers-meets-House-Hunters-Renovations on.

I'll share pictures of the new place soon, but for now... I'm taking a moment to breathe and take it all in.

For the last three months of the year (seriously... where the heck did 2017 go?!), I plan on doing more of the things that makes me smile. Like loving on my babies, hanging with my friends, writing, and taking all the pictures of my cute babies (#DontDebateMeOnThis #TheyAreCute).

And you should too. Because: YOLO!

Happy October, lovelies! Let's all take a tip from Baby August and live our best lives!

Summering, Freely

Aiden's summers used to be jam packed, pretty much from sun up to sun down -- summer day camp, speciality camps, and back-to-back activities. I used to be determined to keep him on somewhat of a schedule so that he'd ease back into the swing of things once school started.

But over the last few weeks of our summer break, we've been summering... freely. Every morning when he wakes up, we decide what we'll do on that particular day. We don't have a set schedule, but we're somehow settled into somewhat of a routine that goes a little something like this:

Pool.

Beach.

Playground.

Splash Pad.

Repeat.

When we get back home, he reads for an hour or so and plays with his toys. Sometimes he goes back outside with his scooter or bike, and sometimes he just plays with his nerf guns around the house.

And sometimes... he plays on his iPad.

Next summer he may be in summer camp for the entire summer. In a few weeks, he'll be in summer camp for a couple weeks so that he gets used to somewhat of a schedule before he starts fourth grade.

But for now... he's summering, freely. He's going to bed late and waking up late. He's cooking his own breakfast when he wakes up. He's reading and relaxing and taking the time to find new things that interest him like building forts, playing board games, researching funny things on the internet.

He's free to worry about "kid stuff" -- the pool... beach... playground... splash pad... repeat. He's summering, freely. And after the year that he's had, he deserves to do just that.

Summer, freely.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

18 Months of August Kingston

August turned 18 months a few days ago and I can't believe my baby delicious is a full-blown toddler now. I'm talking super duper sweet one minute and full-on tantrums the next. Trying to communicate exactly what he wants and very upset when others don't understand him fast enough. Saying words and babbling. Playing nicely with Aiden and then slapping his glasses off of his face the next. Trying to be independent, yet frustrated when he can't complete a task the way he'd like to. And biting on everything with those four new molars that grew in!

It's been a perfect storm and I couldn't ask for the past six months to be any more challenging and rewarding... all at the same time.

August's words:

• "Hi" (with a wave)
• "Bye" (with a wave)
• Shaking his head "no" whenever he doesn't want something 
• "Get down" (whenever he climbs on something, which happens to be all the time. And yes, he first heard the phrase from me.)
• "Hawt" = hot
• "Tha-ci" = paci (aka "pacifier")
• "Sheese" = shoes
• "Bahm-ba" = pamper
• "Ba" = ball
• "Bay-bee" = baby
• "Ah-ah" = all done (also means "I want to eat ____ [whatever he's pointing to])
• "Muah" = kiss
• And a whole lot of babbling

August likes:

• Having "conversations" with pretty much everyone
• Going to get his pampers and wipes when it's time to change his diapers
• Wrestling with Aiden 
• Slapping Aiden's glasses off his face
• Playing with all of Aiden's toys
• Pulling down all the toys off the shelf
• Pulling all the books off the bookcase
• Changing the channel on the TV
• Giving and receiving hugs and kisses
• Climbing on things. All the things
• Running fast 
• Reading books... all of them
• "Talking" on the phone
• Playing with all his animals and learning the sounds that they make
• All things Mickey Mouse 

August dislikes:

• When people tell him "no"
• Taking baths (still)
• Water in his face. Or on his head
• When we take too long to take him out of his crib in the morning (he wakes up way too early)

Can't wait to see what the next six months brings!