I promise we didn’t plan this, buuut this video comes just in time for Mother’s Day in the US! We each talk a little bit about what motherhood/parenting means to us, and of course, each is different based on our own background.
I have seven questions I want to ask you because they’ve been on my mind for a while. Normally, I’d write a story for each, but this time, I’ll follow-up with a brief anecdote instead. I hope you’ll participate and answer one or two.
- Do you think children should be able to use a device when at the dinner table? I notice this every time Dwight and I eat out. The last time, there was a young child, no more than eighteen months old. As soon as she finished her meal, the mother propped up her cell phone and had her watch a video. At the adjacent table, a boy around seven-years-old had stared at a tablet for the duration, only stopping to eat his nachos. Something just doesn’t seem right about these scenarios.
- Is it rude to be on your phone during work meetings? I don’t mean talking on the phone, but you know, your phone vibrates or lights up. You check it and send a quick text or email response, and then return to the business at hand. Is this rude?
- Do you think people who don’t wear their hair in its natural state have self-esteem issues? Some people might think I’m only referring to African Americans and their afros, braids, etc. They’re included under a broader umbrella. I dye my hair because I’m not ready to face the world with gray edges. I don’t think I have self-esteem issues, but at the same time, I don’t like my self with gray edges lol Is it a preference or a deeper thing? What say you?
- Should children be forced to offer a greeting in social settings? This seems to be a more recent trend. When I’ve encountered children under the age of ten years-old, and they don’t say “hello,” their parents offer up something like, “Oh, John is shy. He doesn’t like speaking to people.” Then, the child trots off having never acknowledged there are other people in the room.
- What should people do if they have different love languages? For example, my youngest daughter’s love language seems to be quality time, but mine is predominantly receiving gifts. Should I plan to spend time with her as a way to honor her love language, or should I give her a thoughtful gift and hope she appreciates my effort?
- What do you think about lawnmower parenting? I personally think this is the cause of our new generation’s anxiety. Some of them rarely experience challenges, and when there is one, they don’t know how to deal. Sometimes this leads to a full-on spiral. Of course, I’m no expert on the subject, but I am curious about others’ opinions.
- What is the purpose of familial relationships? I believe the purpose of these types of relationships is to relate to another person in some way, not just to be related. But in families, I’ve noticed people don’t seem to be trying to relate to one another at all. Parents, siblings, and the like tend to think they already know you, so they don’t have to get to know you. Consequently, they never really try to relate; they’re just content with being related.
Mmmmkay. Let me know what you think!
Here, Michelle gives her opinion of trust and also shares a little bit about her personal life and upbringing.
In this interview, I asked Michelle to give her expert opinion on a book I’d recently read. See what she has to say about wives being constant in their love…
I was raised by a celebratory family. My mother’s side was known to praise any and everything that I did. No matter what I accomplished – piano recitals, school functions, dance programs – my grandmother, grandfather, and great aunts and uncle would proclaim, “you were the best one!” On top of that, my mother was known for creating parties. Some planned and some instant.
“Punch in a glass is just punch,” she’d say, “but when you pour it in a punch bowl, with sliced oranges, well that’s a party!”
We partied often. And it was something I grew used to.
Similarly, my father’s side of the family is known for arriving from out of town to celebrate accomplishments. It doesn’t matter if they haven’t seen or talked to the person in months or years, if they’re invited to a graduation party, birthday event, or funeral repast, they will find a way to join in and turn up.
My childhood was wonderful in this way. But then my mother died, and so did her parties.
Eight months later, I threw my own seventeenth birthday party. It was the first time since the funeral that family members were all in one space. It was the first time since we’d buried my mother that things felt normal.
When I graduated high school, I asked Grannie if she was going to have a party afterwards. Some call it an open house.
“You want a party?” she asked.
“Yes,” I beamed.
“Well, you’re gonna have to pay for it yourself.”
So, I did. I bought royal blue streamers, royal blue tablecloths and napkins, and ordered myself a white sheet cake, with royal blue icing that read, Congratulations Kathy! After graduation, family and friends celebrated the occasion with me in Grannie’s basement.
Throughout the years, this pattern continued. If I wanted to celebrate me, then I created an event to do so. Sometimes these were joint, out-of-town birthday parties with friends. Other times, like my doctoral graduation or 40th birthday party, I planned a celebration independently to physically say congrats.
Over the past few years, I’ve grown weary of planning festivities for myself, yet I’ve continued to achieve. To maintain a commemorative spirit, I’ve begun taking myself out. If I do something that I believe is extraordinary, then I splurge on a meal.
I also share great news on social media, because even though sites like Facebook can be annoying, the reality is that Internet communities love to uplift you when you’ve done something positive. To be honest, it’s like dipping a glass ladle into that fancy bowl and scooping out the bright red punch my mother used to make. It tastes sweet. It feels special.
But as I approach 46, I realize those things are all outside of myself. And because I seek growth in everything I do, I’ve developed a new mantra. What I’m doing is important, even if no one else acknowledges it.
Don’t get me wrong. I still celebrate myself in explicit ways, but this phrase reminds me to also turn inward. It reminds me that my self-worth is not tied to my success or anyone’s validation of it. And it liberates me from expecting external gratification in the form of celebratory acts. This is a new practice. We’ll see how it goes.
In the meantime, tell me if you’ve ever had to re-frame how you function in the world because of your upbringing? Are you a celebratory person?
If you don’t already follow her on social media, then please allow Lady G and I to introduce you to Michelle! Here she discusses the importance of her family and the role she plays in it.
“That could never be me!” Have you ever used this phrase? I have. I used to say it a lot whenever I’d hear about sexual abuse victims. I used to say it because I was molested by my own father. I’ll spare the details, but I will share this. As soon as my mother returned home from Wisconsin, I waited for my father to doze off in front of the television, and then sat on their bed. I told my mother what happened.
“I’ll talk to him,” she promised.
The next day, my twelve-year-old self needed answers. “What did he say?”
“He said he was testing you to see if you’d say something. It won’t happen again.”
And it didn’t. If it would’ve, I already had a plan. I was telling her mother. And if that didn’t work, then I was telling a school official, because even in the seventh-grade, I knew something was unusual and inappropriate about what he did. From that point on and in my arrogance, I declared, that could never be me whenever I’d hear about other victims who suffered such acts for years.
But recent allegations from MJ and Robert Kelly victims have me singing a new tune. Now, in conversation, I suggest to others to have compassion for victims and parents because that could be your child. You know what they say? You guessed it. That could never be me!
In fact, one friend stopped scrolling through his phone, looked me directly in the eyes, and said, “That could never be my kids. Kathy, that could never be one of your kids!”
I said this to him, and I’ll say this to everyone. Depending on how old your child is, you don’t know who your child is talking to right now. You don’t know what they’re doing. I stand by this because, unless you’re with your child twenty-four hours per day, then you really don’t know. And, from what I understand, children are typically sexually abused by someone close to them, not some stranger lurking in the dark, offering them candy.
Also, I’m sure none of us wants to think about this, but your child could literally be the victim of sexual abuse at the hands of a trusted teacher or coach. You…don’t…know, unless they tell you, which also may not happen.
A friend of mine recently found out that her child was molested at school when he was five-years-old. He’s nineteen now. She just found out. It’s not because she’s a bad mother. It’s not because she’s not had his interest at heart. It’s because things can occur that we, as parents, don’t know about.
My intent here is not to scare anyone or to have you hover more into helicopter mode. My point is the next time you hear about an alleged sexual abuse victim, maybe you could shift your perspective and think about it as if it were your child, or your sibling’s child, or your best friend’s child. Because even if you think it couldn’t happen to you, it could happen to someone you know, and that person might need a bit of compassion.
Oh boy! The conversation is getting juicy!
The louder I get the more thick my southern accent becomes! LOL!
As you know, Dr. Garland’s subject matter centers around male/female relationships. In this session, we continue our conversation from part 2 on the differences between men and women.
Please be sure to follow Dr. Garland and Michelle! You can link to them via the first or second post of this interview.
Every now and then, Facebook (in particular) gets on my nerves. Or maybe it’s the people on Facebook. Either way, sometimes, I tire of how people post, what they choose to share, and the overall monotony of it all.
So, I take a break and deactivate.
These breaks usually last 30 days. This time, though, I noticed two things in my absence and I almost said adieu to the social media site for good.
Facebook has made seasonal friends into lifetime ones. Have you all heard this phrase before: People are in your life for a reason, season, or lifetime? Well, I for one think it’s true. But what I’ve noticed is that Facebook makes every relationship a lifetime one, and that’s just unnatural. There are some people with whom you were only supposed to be in contact for those three years that you had that job. He or she was your co-worker. They were never supposed to know how your vacation went, or the college your child is attending, or that you love your cat so much that you have hundreds of photos of him. He was just Mike, from that job you had in 1998. And when you quit, you were probably supposed to leave him in 1998, not allow him access to the remainder of your life.
This goes for family members too. I remember when we first started our Facebook activity. Dwight was very discerning about who he would add, even if it was family. It used to baffle me. Why won’t you add my cousin??? It’s my cousin! Now, I understand. My cousin is crazy in person and she might also be crazy on social media. Family can be in your life for a reason, season, or lifetime too, so yeah. There’s no reason to befriend them on the interwebs when you might be avoiding them in regular situations, like Thanksgiving dinner.
People think they know how you’re doing. Folks sincerely believe they know how you’re doing if they see you living your best social media life. One year, my aunt rattled off facts about me in an effort to prove just how much she knew about me. My cousin recounted how much my father “knew about and loved my daughters,” even though he’d never spoken to them on the telephone and visited twice. Facebook has become a replacement for other types of interaction. But let me tell you what happens when you’re inaccessible to people in that way. (Some) people revert to checking up on you the “old-fashioned” way. They call. They text. They ask how and what you’re doing. In fact, one friend said she’d gone on FB to find out what I was up to, but I wasn’t there, so she texted. While I appreciated her and others’ concern, it’s clear that it’s a lot easier to see how someone’s doing by just waiting for them to pop up in your feed, than it is to reach out and ask about their well-being. However, I’ve argued before that it’s not a genuine way to gauge someone’s wellness. It’s just a highlight reel, and not always an authentic one, just the positive, sunshiny version, chosen for its best angle and lighting.
Anywho, by the time you read this, I will have reactivated my account and returned to interacting with hundreds of “lifetime friends” and their filtered moments. But I have a feeling the end is nearing for this social media giant and me.