Village Talk: Totally Unfit OR...Did Something Stupid?

Recently I had something go down in my neighborhood where a neighbor asked me to call the police on some kids for her.  Well...CLEARLY this neighbor doesn't know me cuz yeah...I'm not calling the police on kids.  ESPECIALLY in the currently climate we've been in for a minute regarding police situations.  I was annoyed with the situation big time because the woman is a mother and well...I figured mothers should think these kinds of things through before making a rash decision.  I mean...I hold mothers up in high esteem even as I recognize they are human.

But again...I would never, ever, EVER call the police on children unless I for real thought my life was in danger.  So yeah...just wanted to get that out the way.  o_0

That said, I read this article and I felt some kinda way about it:  

Mom allegedly leaves son alone for holiday weekend

So...the mother is 27.  Her child is 8.  She became a mother when she was still a teenager of sorts.  At 27, she's a cute girl still.  And...she's been a mother for 8 years + the 9 months she carried the child.  You'd like to THINK she'd figured out how to do this mothering thing a bit better but well...the news that we often hear or read would suggest that people in their 20's are still kinda offish.  As someone who was MAJORLY offish in her 20's...hell...I can't imagine the simple ish I might have done had I been a parent since being a teenager.  Not saying that all women who became mothers early on did major irresponsible ish but hey...I'd understand-ish if they did.

Whenever I hear/read something like this...I wonder what I would have done.  I know me so I know that had I realized that an 8 year old neighbor child was home alone while his mother was out of town...I would have promptly made him call his mother and give me the phone.  I would have told her IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that her child was going to be at my house until she returned and that my expectations were that she was going to return as quickly as possible with the threat of the police being called if she didn't.  I would have thought about the repercussions of calling the police.  Of the child being removed from the home and taken into protective custody.  Of the mother being arrested.  Of her arrest possibly leading to her losing her job and all the crap that follows losing your job when you're a single parent.  I would have wondered why in the HELL she didn't leave the child with someone she trusted and then I would have been sad thinking that she didn't have anyone in her life that she'd trust with her child.  I'd think that yeah...she did something stupid but hey...the child was being well taken care of prior to this so yeah...maybe getting them people in their business would COMPLETELY wreck their flow of life.  If she didn't have someone she trusted to care for her child for a weekend...what are the chances that she'd have someone trusted to care for the child while she dealt with the legal issues surrounding her doing something majorly f'ed up and stupid?

But yeah...Idda thought about all of that and brought him to my house, put on some cartoons or hooked up his video game and kept an eye on the kid until she hot footed it back home.  And then...Idda kept an eye on her azz from that point forward to make sure the child was good ya know?  I probably would have offered to watch him for her so she could have a break from being a mother and just be a cute 27 year old at the beach with friends from time-to-time.

Cuz mothers need that downtime sometimes when they are the everything and all to their babies.

I get upset thinking about this "neighbor" who called the police straight off the bat.  I mean...chick had kids who played with the kid apparently so she was acquainted with him but not so much so that she'd consider the repercussions should she call the police.  So she did and the child was removed from the home and the mother arrested.  Nothing was said about the child living in unfit conditions.  Their home is nice and well kept.  

I'm not condoning what the mother did cuz yeah...that was stupid and dude...REALLY??????????  HE'S FUGGIN 8 YEARS OLD!  But the "neighbor?"  She's a b*****.  An unfeeling, unconcerned b***** who doesn't give two shits about that child.  Yeah I said it...she's a BITCH.

I hate calling people b*****es and very rarely do it...but in this situation one mother did something super stupid and the other mother was a b****.

I hate b****es.

Your turn.  What would YOU have done?  Would YOU have called the police?  

12 Minute Gluten Free Chicken and Broccoli!

I love Chinese take out.  Or, should I say...LOVED it.  Since pretty much every sauce has a base which includes soy sauce I can't eat it in restaurants and the few recipes I've tried before tonight simply didn't do it any justice.

I ran across this recipe and it made tonight:  12-MINUTE CHICKEN AND BROCCOLI

The only thing I changed was that I added red pepper flakes.  I had two substitutions because well...I'm crazy but instead of cornstarch I had to use flour because I was out and instead of rice wine vinegar I used a Serrano Honey Balsamic vinegar because, again...that's what I had.  Since one of the ingredients was honey...I felt like this wouldn't be a big deal.  

I also did something that has changed my life as of tonight.  Instead of grating up fresh ginger...I cut a piece about the size of my garlic press and peeled it.  Then...I pressed it.

LIFE.CHANGING!

This was soooooooooooooooooooooo good!

YIELD: ABOUT 2-4 SERVINGS

12-MINUTE CHICKEN AND BROCCOLI

This classic chicken and broccoli recipe is full of fresh and delicious flavor, and it's ready to go in just 12 minutes!

PREP: 3 MINS COOK: 9 MINS TOTAL: 12 MINS

INGREDIENTS:

• 3 Tbsp. reduced-sodium soy sauce

• 2 Tbsp. rice wine vinegar

• 2 Tbsp. honey

• 1 Tbsp. cornstarch

• 1 garlic clove, minced

• 1/2 tsp. ground ginger

• 1 tsp. sesame oil

• 2 Tbsp. olive oil

• 2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces

• salt and pepper

• 1 bunch broccoli, chopped into small florets

• 1/2 cup thinly sliced green onions

• 1 tsp. toasted sesame seeds

DIRECTIONS:

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Add chicken breasts, and season with a generous pinch of salt and pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the chicken is browned and mostly cooked through.

While the chicken is cooking, make your sauce. In a small bowl, whisk together soy sauce, rice wine vinegar, honey, cornstarch, garlic, ginger and sesame oil until combined. Set aside.

Once the chicken is browned, add the broccoli and stir to combine. Continue cooking for an additional 3 minutes, until the broccoli is bright green. Stir in the soy sauce mixture, and cook for an additional 1 minute until the sauce has thickened.

Remove from heat and serve immediately, garnished with green onions and toasted sesame seeds.

SNL Skit with Louis C.K.: When you get what you asked for.

Full disclosure here.  I'm a Louis C.K. fan.  I think his show, "Louie", is genius.  I think he tackles things we are mostly uncomfortable discussing in a fresh way.  In a REAL way.  You know...that way you discuss them at home when you don't have to use knowing looks or hushed tones to discuss them because you know the heart of the person you're discussing them with.  See...we can discuss anything if we already KNOW the person we're discussing it with.  When we don't know the person, as we're forming our thoughts, we are constantly thinking about just where this person is coming from.

Well...you know that.

Anyway...yeah...I'm a fan.

We missed SNL on Saturday night because we were out partying it up big time popping bottles and whatnot.

Okay...we were asleep.  Hell...we're old.  We can't stay up that long on a Saturday night anymore without planning.

So we watched on Sunday morning while eating late breakfast.  We were still trying to digest Louis C.K.'s opening monologue and watching silently.  I had a piece of bacon in my hand and was chewing.  When the above skit started...I stopped chewing.  BACON.  I stopped chewing bacon.  I stared at the television blinking and holding my bacon in my hand.  

I thought about another SNL skit with Louis C.K. in it that was basically a ripoff from the Dave Chappelle Show.  I thought when Dave did it...it was brilliant but on SNL it made my eyes squint.

And it made me wonder if perhaps I'm bringing along with me a feeling of some kinda way because for decades...we've been wondering why there weren't more people of color on SNL and now...we have them so exploring politically incorrect and edgy comedy including Black people and ABOUT Black people is more likely to happen.  SNL is well known to be offensive to all right?

So what do you think?  What DID you think?  Did the new skit make you laugh?  Was it funny?  Was it uncomfortable to watch because you know people like the Sprint manager?  Was it funny because you know people like the Sprint manager?  What do you think, so far, of Leslie Jones on the show?

What did YOU think of his opening monologue?  Child molester "jokes" too much?

Bookin' It: "An Ember in the Ashes" and "The Paying Guests"

An Ember in the Ashes

I recently finished reading this book and really enjoyed it.  I read that the author wants it to be a stand alone book and I really hope that isn't the case because I need to know what happens.  It was the kind of book you found yourself rushing to get back to whenever you put it away and I was for real sad when it ended.

I found the next book on an NPR list of best reads by the staff and had it on my auto-download list on my Overdrive App. (I told you guys about this app once before and if you aren't using it yet you are TRULY missing out on the best.app.ever!!!!!!!!!)  

The Paying Guests

I will say that I wasn't expecting some of the stuff that went down to go down and that it took a lot to keep me reading it but I'm wondering if it's just because the pace of the last book was so fast and this author takes her time using a lot of words to say stuff if that makes any sense.  LOL!  So yeah...haven't finished it yet and once I do I'll let yall know if it was good.  If you've read it...what grade did you give it?  Don't give anything up, ESPECIALLY the thing that went down that I wasn't expecting to go down and if you read it you probably felt the same way once it went down.  LOL!  As I was just now looking for the link to it on Amazon and well...had I read about it on Amazon I wouldn't have been surprised.  Oh well...my bad.  Now I gotta know though.  I WILL FINISH THIS BOOK!!!!!!!!!

Whatchall reading?  Anything to recommend?  

Mother's Day 2015: One Lantern Against a Dark, Vast Sky

For years I've tried to focus on the indomitable strength of my parents.  The people that brought me into this world and who made a conscious decision to be the all and everything to and for my brothers and I for a lifetime.  I made a consolidated effort to try and steer my thoughts whenever they strayed to the darkness and really focused on spreading light forcefully into anything that attempted to seep into my spirit and crumble my resolve.

Sometimes it works.

Sometimes it doesn't.

When I think of all a parent has to be, I am humbled by the sheer weight of the job.  Of dedicated fealty.  And honestly, sometimes, I'm thankful it's a job I never had to undertake.  I think of my mother, beaten and broken, getting up, no matter what, to get us ready for our day.  I think of her soft hands, smiles and kisses as she made our breakfast, placing our plates gingerly on the table in front of us wincing slightly at the weight of balancing the plate as she holds one of her wings close to her side to balance out her pain from her bruises, her abuse, her choice to keep her children in a two-parent home which all the Elders and society lead her to believe she needed to have so that we could grow, and soar and fly while she watched protectively from her nest.

With a broken wing.

So we had to learn early on to not depend on her always, not because she didn't WANT to take care of us the way she wanted to but because her choices might hinder her from being able to.  Her wing might be broken.  Or her jaw.  Or her collarbone.  Or four fucking ribs and her wrist.

And she'd arrange her long hair artfully.  A long spiral curl falling softly in her face hoping you wouldn't look closer into her eyes and see the bruise there fading or pay attention to how one half of her face slumped from the stroke she'd had and wasn't afforded with the luxury of recovery properly because he demanded that things get back to normal as soon as possible because the longer things weren't "normal" the longer he was faced with what he'd done.  Again, and again and again.  And how watching her hurt hurt him and he saw it in our eyes and he knew he'd done it but he didn't want to but dammit he did it.  FUCK HE DID IT.  HE HURT HER REPEATEDLY.

And always with remorse.  Always with gifts.  Always followed by something pretty when she was the most beautiful thing he could ever touch.

By age 12, I was put in charge of her Mother's Day gifts.  My father would give me a wad a cash or a credit card and he'd take my brother and I to the mall to pick something out.  He'd sit on a bench and wait no matter how long it took.  He didn't rush us, he wanted to make sure that she got something she'd love.  I'd go store to store looking for the perfect something for her.  Something I'd seen her linger on before but wouldn't buy for herself because she didn't want to spend the money on herself because she had four growing children running out of yesterday's clothes.  I'd touch the fabrics as I'd watched her do a million times.  Rub it against my cheek to see it if was a pleasing feel.  I'd imagine how she'd look dressed in it.  How'd she'd walk if she wore it while free and happy with the wind blowing in her hair and with her dress up jewelry and shoes.  I'd always get it gift wrapped there and take my time choosing the paper and ribbon in the back of the store or at Gaudchaux's up the elevator that smelled of ammonia and something sweet in the middle of it.  I'd be proud and my little brother would be quiet knowing that this was the most important thing we were tasked yearly because it was her day.  HER day.  The one who did so much and took so much yet  received so little in the form of hugs and kisses.  Not knowing then...that it's what she truly valued the most.

Her babies.

And when the box was complete, when I'd passed over the money and the gift was placed directly in front of me, he'd stand on his toes to take it off the counter so he could carry it gently.  Wearing his clean and pressed shorts, his tube socks with the coordinating stripes.  His afro picked out to perfection because she plaited his hair every night before bed so it didn't get tangled.  And he'd carry it reverently and I'd follow behind him, small chest poked out.  I got it right.  I know I did.  I know she'll love it.  Not that pretend mommy love either.  The for real kind.

She'd love it.

He'd see us coming and ask if we were good?

You good?

Big grins.

We're good, daddy, we're good.

Your mama gonna like it?

She's going to love it daddy.  

My brother silent, looking at him with eyes that were always cloaked hiding what I now know he never really hid.  He simply kept it at bay from this one.

From him.

And we'd keep the gift hidden.  A secret.  Until Sunday morning and we'd be so excited.  And she'd sit on the furniture we never sat on and she'd exclaim over how beautiful the wrapping paper was and she'd take it off gently so as to not tear it and we'd be giddy with excitement, jumping beans in pajamas with bed plaited hair and sleep crust on the corners or our eyes.  A runny nose from the air conditioning and ashy knees and elbows.  And she'd open it and lift it from the tissue paper, her eyes glazed over with happiness.  She'd place the box gently to the side and hold her gift and she'd look directly at me with softness in her eyes, girl-to-girl, and smile KNOWING IT WAS ME WHO KNEW HER SO WELL.

I so loved that feeling of being able to do for her something she'd never do for herself in a way she'd taught me how.  Paying attention to the details.  

I don't know if I would have been able to be her.  I doubt I could ever bend the way she did.  I doubt putting the lives of four other people always above her own is something I would have ever been able to do the right way.  The bar of motherhood she set would have been a struggle for me to lift myself over.  I don't have the dexterity it would have taken under the conditions she did it all under.  I doubt if my anger, always right below the surface, would have been able to be pushed out of the way by light as she did.  I doubt having my wing broken would have ended with my making breakfast.

All the mothers I know have this.  That all consuming power they use to cover their children and keep going. Bullshit at work with a smile because they can't pop off in an explosion of words and angry emails taking down fools with them and rolling out in a blaze of glory.

MINGO OUT.

I am in awe of what children do to women.  How it polishes them into such rare and beautiful sparkling gems.  How it preens them into powerful all knowing beings.

For the past month I've been on top of the world doing what I love.  Last night I dressed up like a girl and danced with true happiness.  Nearing the end of the night...someone release a lantern into the sky.  Just one.  As I watched it fly away my mind exploded with thoughts and images and sensations of her and my heart cracked open yet again.  A wound nothing will ever truly heal.  

I drove home in pain.  In silence.  With tears streaming down my face missing her so fucking much even as she'd been gone more years now than I had her.  

But I remember her.

And I miss her.

And God knows how very, very much I fall back on the strength of her.  Of needing her.

I walked into my cool, clean and quiet home dodging frogs at the door and went straight to him.  My love.  And he enveloped me, kissing me asking if I'd had a good time immediately up out of his sleep with a light on.  For me.  When I didn't answer...he knew the cracks in my interior were open and hugged me tighter.  

I miss my mommy.  I'd give practically anything for that to be something I never, ever felt.

Happy Mother's Day to you and yours.  It's a bond so extreme...you will never be able to shatter.  And the power it gives you is a light we all see and admire.  Have an amazing day.  Be the Queen.

Love,

Monnie

MINGO OUT