Quiskaeya

Farewell to a Blog - Going Forward IRL

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Wed, 04 Jan 2012 19:01:00 +0000

HNY dear blog friends! Did 2012 arrive as unexpectedly for you as it did for me?? I swear I blinked and BAM! twenty-twelve appeared. Although, the new year came quite surprisingly fast, I'm sooo excited for this new year. I can't remember having this level of anticipation for any year as I have for 2012. Well, that's probably an understatement since nothing can top the level of excitement and anticipation I felt in the separate years my kids were born.

So here we are and I find myself at a huge crossroad and the direction I need to take is crystal clear. Although I have complete clarity as to where I am heading, the realization is bitter sweet. I have a couple of great opportunities ahead of me and when I ponder whether I should throw myself full throttle into these opportunities or try to maintain my blogging efforts, blogging seems to pale in comparison. It's not that I don't like blogging anymore, it's simply that my interests have changed - drastically. I supposed this has been the case for quite some time, but I was in denial about it. I made a miserable attempt to revive this blog and even thought if I shifted my interest to a new topic (hence my other blog) that I might regain my passion for blogging.

The truth is, I've run my course with blogging and I'm ready to move on. I've enjoyed sharing my family, my eclectic/eccentric thoughts and ideas, and and and... with you. Some of you have become close personal friends whom will continue to be my friends long after this blog is forgotten. The way you've opened your blogs to me and even the fact that some of you have invited me to contribute to your blogs and blogging projects, has been a complete honor. From the hormonal pregnant mom who started this blogging journey to the woman I am today, I can undeniably say the blogosphere has contributed to my growth to some degree.

I will leave this blog static for a time as I go through the many posts to see what I'd like to keep and dispose of. One day I'd like to pass this little piece of me on to my boys when then can appreciate it.

Words cannot adequately express my gratitude that others would find my crazy writings worth a second glance, but I thank you, Thank You for the times that you stopped by.

Farewell Quiskaeya, farewell.

Trying to Get My Blogging Groove Back

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 06 Sep 2011 16:00:00 +0000

When I look at my posts over the 9-10 mos, I'm baffled - maybe even a little sad - at the lack of blogging I've done. I can literally count on one ~~hand~~ finger how many posts there are for this year, because the shocking number is a resounding ONE. After 3 1/2 years of strong, dedicated blogging, how I came to an abrupt halt with no warning, is beyond me. I really can't say what happened. If I had a touching, pull-at-your-heart-strings kinda story, it would completely justify being away for so long. But the honest truth is, I don't have one.
Ana Gazawi
Busy?
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Sure, I could blame it on being extra busy - which I am - but then when am I ever not extra busy. That's the story of my life. Single mom. Never enough time. Always playing catch up. What's new... Therefore, using busy-ness as my excuse just seems like a cop-out.
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Fodder? Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi

Oh definitely not that! My life is made for movies. I always have plenty of blog fodder. Paramount, Warner Bros., Touchstone - any of you elite production companies takers for recreating my life into a movie? I promise it's guaranteed to be blockbuster. HA!
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Life? Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi

Life surely keeps on happening (just like it's supposed to if you're breathing, God willing) and somehow, time manages to slip away much too fast. My plate is full, no doubt. Life, certainly keeps me on my toes, but despite all I have nothing to complain about. I'd rather have too much on my plate, than not enough. I seem to operate better when it's crunch time and the adrenaline level is high.
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
So? Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
What is the cause of my deficiency in blogging, asks you? Well...hmmm...I just seemed to have experienced a distinct lack of interest in it over my hiatus. Maybe, it was due to a bit of writer's block - which seems like a paradox since I never run out of stuff to write about. Case in point: my obnoxiously long run-on sentences. Hehehe ;-)
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Sorry. Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi
Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi Ana Gazawi

The truth is, what I'm most sorry about is that I abandonned your blogs. I miss you, I really do. I know that sounds sappy and all, but each of the blogs that I used to frequent added something uniquely "you" to my day. I couldn't wait to run to your blogs to find out what was the latest funny story, or thought provoking idea, or inspirational tale, or even the mundane, trivial things you spoke about, were interesting. I'm trying to get my blogging groove back. I can't promise that I'll be regular like I used to, at first. But hopefully, with some time I'll be back into the swing of things and getting all up in your blogging business. LOL.

Happy 3rd Birthday Sweet Baby Boy!

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 15:57:00 +0000

Words can not express how much I love you!

A Father's Tribute to His Transracially Adopted Daughter

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 16 Nov 2010 19:54:00 +0000

Did you know that November is Adoption month? No? Yes, my lovely readers, it is. In light of that, this month I will showcase various tidbits from around the web that speak on adoption. I'm sure many of you have seen the Sesame Street video below - it's gone viral since its release. Who can blame it for becoming an instant sensation? The video's adorable character and catchy tune are simply irresistible. Beyond that, the message it conveys certainly is one that will resonates loudly with girls of color, since many of them struggle with the image of their hair.

While I find the video adorable in all it's bouncy, bubbly glory, I thirsted to know what prompted Sesame Street to create a video such as this - and now. Was it for viewership and to grapple at a broader audience? I'll admit the producers of Sesame Street have done a decent job at incorporating diversity in a good portion of their programming. However, even they have missed opportunities at times to be more inclusive of diversity. Therefore, I wondered if the timing of this video was intentional.

As it would happen, my investigation lead me to discover some information I hadn't expected to find. The creator of this video, Joey Mazzarino, is the head writer at Sesame Street. He and his wife, a Caucasian couple, adopted a beautiful Ethiopian girl.

In his own words, Mazzarino describes what inspired him to write the song. "She (his daughter) wanted to have long blond hair and straight hair, and she wanted to be able to bounce it around,"

Mazzarino began to worry that his daughter might be battling with the dynamics of being in a transracial adoption. However, he soon discovered that hair challenges & pressures are very deeply rooted in black community. In my opinion, I think Mazzarino should be commended for his work. However, I realize that controversy abounded as a result of this video. It appears that some people in the black community were offended that the Muppet's hair changed texture and had length in some of the scenes, thereby not resembling black hair in their opinion. They feel the message is conflicting in that it encourages black girls to love their hair, yet the Muppet sports hairstyles that would require them to straighten or purchase synthetic hair in order to have those styles.

What say you, my lovelies? What are your thoughts? Thumps up or Thumps Down?

The Importance of Your Child's Name

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 09 Nov 2010 18:47:00 +0000

::sniffles:: 19 weeks prego w/ my 2nd born

Oh the joy of knowing a baby is on the way. Certainly, preparing for baby can be an overwhelming experience, but dreaming about what this growing life two people have created will look like, overshadows any stress involved. There's a lot that goes into planning for baby. Family and friends need to be notified. Clothes, baby items and furniture must be bought. Co-sleeping? Bottle or breast? Baby-wearing? Home birth or Hospital birth? Cloth diapers or disposables? Phew - Just thinking about it wears me out and I'm not even expecting!

Nonetheless, there is one aspect of preparing for baby that might be the most daunting of all and that's naming the baby. Mom has her ideas and Dad has his. Then there are the family members and in-laws that often want to chime in. Should the child's name pay homage to a parent, grandparent or dear friend?

The name game can take on an added facet when the couple is multicultural or even interracial. Should the name honor both heritages? Will there be a language or cultural barrier when non-English speaking family members try to embrace the name? These are valid concerns to think about and I know families confronted with this challenge. My own family dealt with this.

An aerial view of my super preggo 7mth belly. lol

Personally, I like names that I can mentally perceive being preceded by the title Dr.; or names that I envision being called out at an honorary award ceremony for the Pulitzer or Nobel Peace Prize. I like names that have a meaning and significance that I hope my children will embrace. Yea, I dream big for my boys, but what parent doesn't, hopefully. But I have to dream big for my boys. There are just too many negative images and sterotypes in the media with disparaging attitude toward minority boys (particularly black boys) it's practically as if society see boys as being doomed before they've even started.

In a recent article on Madame Noire, the editor tackled the question of whether black parents are wrongly attacked for choosing ethnic names. In all honesty, some of the ethnic, reclaim our African roots, names some black parents choose for their children merit a raised eyebrow. I realize the black empowerment movement of the 60s that lead to many black parents opting for more Afro-centric names, was an effort to shed "slave" connotations and regain ethnic pride. I get all that. However, personally I'm not on that bandwagon that feels we need to go back to Africa to gain pride and purpose. Quite frankly, Africans aren't thinking about us and rightfully so. It's high time blacks in the western hemisphere started concentrating on what we have on this side of the globe and work harder to build on that. ::stepping off soapbox and setting down mic::

Coming back around from that tangent I went on, when I encounter names like Bacardi for a boy or Taquila for a girl, I'm left scratching my head. What was this black parent thinking when they named their child? Was the child named in remembrance of a night of too much alcohol and wild times? ::shakes head and chuckles::

I remember reading an article about baby names shortly after President Obama took office. There was a surge in black parents naming their children Barack. Was it whimiscal thinking to believe that if President Obama could achieve the most prestigious position in the land with his name, that all children will have the same success? I really don't know...

I'm seeing future surgeons or world leaders right here!

However, Msnbc.com reported that MIT and the University of Chicago found that job applicants with names that sounded ethnic got overlooked when it came to the hiring process. The researchers sent out 5,000 fake resumes, and it turned out that resumes with African American names such as Tyrone and Tamika were less likely to get calls from prospective employers than their Anglo-sounding counterparts, and qualifications seemed to have little impact. Some studies have shown that ethnic names have as high as 50% less callback rate than "white" sounding names.

Here a list of some of the names that potentially receive discriminate responses by potential employers:

Girls: Aisha, Keisha, Tamika, Lakisha, Tanisha, Latoya, Kenya, Latonya and Ebony
Boy: Rasheed, Tremayne, Kareem, Darnell, Tyrone, Hakim, Jamal, Leroy, Jermaine

Here's a list of some of the names that receive the highest responses:

Girls: Emily, Anne, Jill, Allison, Laurie, Sarah, Meredith, Carrie, Kristen,
Boys: Todd, Neil, Geoffrey, Brett, Brendan, Greg, Matthew, Jay, Brad

I don't know if my kids' names will be a stumbling block or a door opener to opportunities for them. In my mind's eye I see my kids doing great things when they're adults. I'm claiming it for them and I try my best to nurture a successful attitude in them. But truly at the end of the day, regardless of their names, I just want them to be happy confident, happy individual, with good values.

So what say you, my lovelies? What inspired you to name your child his/her name? Did you think about how it could impact them in life?

Hair Evolution NOT Hair Revolution

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 14:19:00 +0000

Natural Hair Affirmation: It's interesting that to keep my hair the same texture that it grows out of my head is looked at as revolutionary ~ Tracie Thoms

The beginning of my loc journey. Look at my 2ndborn he was 1 mth. Little chunker!

I gave up the creamy crack about 12-13 years ago. It was the beginning of my hair evolution. I stress hair evolution because at the time, some people accused me of having a hair revolution, which wasn't my intention at all. I understand there are some hair naturalistas that can become pretty militant about going natural. If you aren't using shea butter, bees wax or any other similar earthy product, then you're using processed products and therefore your hair has been chemically altered and it really isn't natural anymore. Yep, some naturalistas are really that anal; it's a cardinal sin in their natural hair Bible.

A year and a half later my locs were getting long.

On that same token, I have been subjected to ridicule by some of my perming sisters that act as though going natural is a revolutionary stance. Personally, I stopped perming my hair because I had become a semi crunchy, pale green kinda girl and natural hair fit right into that lifestyle. I'm not a hardcore crunchy, but it's definitely important to me. I used to talk about it all the time over here, but I'm thinking of starting a separate blog for my crunchy talk. When I first went au naturale, I mainly twisted my hair at night and then kept it free in the day. Two years ago I decided to loc my hair. Since I'm a girl who likes to switch it up ever few years, this past summer I took a locing break and had my hair in braids. Now, I'm thinking of trying sisterlocs.

I'm all about simple and worry-free hairstyles since I hate to fuss with my hair. Natural hair has afforded me a certain level of freedom that permed hair didn't. I remember in the early years of going natural some of the crazy reactions I received from some friends & family. Oh boy!

Why did you cut off your hair? You have such naturally long hair!

My final loc pic. I cut them off in July. I think I'll try sisterlocs.

Girl are you joining that natural hair revolutionary movement - power to the black women stuff? (This was asked in a joking way, but still it was irritating)

Have you become a rastafarian? (These types of questions came when I started loc-ing my hair)

I can laugh about it now because I've grown very comfortable with my natural hair. I remember a time when I would walk into a room with black women and my hair would seem to say to them "I'm a militant black woman!". I felt as though I had joined the black panthers of natural hair. It's crazy the hair wars in our community. Black women go natural for different reasons. For some it's a sign of wanting to go against the status-quo (the hair revolutionist); for other women it's because of bad experiences with perming and still others go natural because it's becoming a trendy thing to do. However, I feel the vast majority of women who go natural do so for the simplicity and the ease of managing natural hair.

I had braids over the summer. It was a nice change.

Once a woman gets the hang of maintaining her natural tresses it's one of the most liberating experiences (at least in my case - others may beg to differ). I love that I can wash my hair as many or as few times as I want and keep it moving. No need to sit for hours under the drier and as a matter of fact air blown hair is healthier on natural hair anyway. Often times a simple morning conditioning rinse, along with a light touch of olive and/or coconut oil is all I need to get my hair looking ready for the day. If I want more defined curls I'll opt for a deep conditioning and rinse; followed by massaging a decent amount of Curls Goddess Glaze (CGG)or Miss Jessie's Stretch Silkening Creme (MJSSC) and then I'll twist my hair. If I want serious definition in my curls I'll leave the twist in for 2 days and then untwist my hair, followed by a light touch of CGG or MJSSC and I am good to go! Love it!

Seriously, I could never go back to permed hair - ever. I realize natural hair isn't for every black woman. But in my opinion natural hair really isn't that deep, so I'm not sure why all the crazy reactions to it. You do you and I'll do me, is the way I see it. It's that simple. And as for me, I fully intend to keep on being a naturalista.

What is it that keeps black women going at each other about their hair? Is the media to blame or do we perpetuate this war among ourselves? What say you, my lovelies?

Facebook & Kids

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 16:02:00 +0000

I was reading an article on Reuter.com that asked should parents friend their kids on facebook. Ummm yeah! It amazes me that anyone would even question this. Some of the parents in the article actually had uncertain feelings about invading their children's privacy. I'm probably old-fashioned in my thinking, but I think that children should be given limited (very limited) privacy rights when they are young that increase as they show themselves to be responsible and mature.

Last year my 9yo asked me to open a facebook account for him. He was 8 at the time and I couldn't fathom why an 8 yo should be on facebook. Later, I found out some of his classmates had facebook accounts and this is why he was asking for one. This year his dad opened an account for him, much to my chagrin. While I still think that he's too young to have an account, it's worked out well. Why? Firstly, I am on his friend list and secondly, because I am ALL OVER his activities on facebook. Yes, I repeat All.Over.His.Activities.

His account is linked to my cell phone so I'm notified of everything that happens on his account and I can hop onto it anytime I want to check on things. We do not allow him to accept or invite friends. Currently, only family friends or family members are allowed as friends and not all of them can see everything on his account (e.g. some can't see pictures). We already had an internet usage rule that we set up for him and facebook goes right into that plan. He can't use the computer without permission and the computer he uses has parental securities so he's only allowed to visit certain sites. So far everything has been good and he only uses facebook to play games with his FB friends.

I realize that the boundaries we have in place for my 9yo are very rigid and strict. However, even if my son was 13, 14 or an older teen, I would still put some restrictions on him. I am sure that when he's 16 he'll be more responsible than when he's 13, so I believe restrictions should fit the child's maturity level. Nonetheless, whether he is 17yo or 9 yo I would still expect to be a friend on his list. The bottom line is that children need guidance and age appropriate boundaries no matter how old they are. When it comes to internet predators, they've managed to find a way to prey on children of all ages. While my child might want to be on facebook for innocent reasons, it's unfortunate that predators can take lighthearted activities and turn them into an opportunity to violate our children.

What are your thoughts on facebook and children or even children and the internet?

Join Black Women with Biracial Children Group

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Sat, 30 Oct 2010 16:42:00 +0000

Are you a black woman in an interracial relationship? Are you a black woman with multiracial children? If either scenario fits you, please listen up.

Join an exciting group for women just like you who can relate to your experience. Come make new friends or reconnect with old or familiar friends in a great place that fosters learning, growing, sharing and connecting.

Click here to join. Join now!

RIP the Sony Cassette Walkman

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Thu, 28 Oct 2010 14:42:00 +0000

Rest in peace Sony cassette Walkman, rest in peace. You sure gave me some good times, fun times, I'll never forget. Man, do I remember my first Walkman. I was probably 9 or 10 years old and it was yellow. All my friends either had a yellow or black Walkman. The Walkman for us, was like having an iPod today. Every kid had one and it was the gadget to have. Ah man. Good times. Fun times.

All the neighborhood kids would hang out after school with our Walkmans attached to our heads boppin' to the beats of MJ & Janet. There was always one crazy kid in the bunch who swore he could do the moonwalk better than Michael and would break out in some funky moves, followed by trying to do the head spin on the sidewalk. We'd all follow in suit trying to prove who was the best dancer in our crew. We're lucky none of us end up with head injuries as a result of our shenanigans. Ah man. Good times. Fun times.

At home, I would listen to my walkman while dancing in front of the mirror. The off-key sounds of Rick Astley, Debbie Gibson, Tiffany and Madonna could be heard belting from mouth as I pretended to be a superstar. Ah man. Good times. Fun times.

That was the era of big hair, acid washed jeans and exaggerated make-up. Yeah man, I remember all too well my puffy bangs and how I tried to sneak on make up when I got older. My bangs were so big it was hard to tell if they were bangs or a bun. Oh, don't let me get started on the make up. It always appeared as though I had black & blue bruised eyes because the application was so heavy. But let's talk about the shows back then. Who could forget the sitcoms & t.v. programs of the 80's. By far the 80's produced the best shows ever! The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Growing Pains and too many others to recall. And networks don't make Saturday morning programing nearly as good as they did back then. Anyone remember Punky Brewster and the Smurfs? Ah man. Good times. Fun times.

Dear sweet Sony cassette Walkman... Remembering the times I had with you brings back memories of so many wonderful moments. But you're gone and life must go on. And in your passing you remind me of just how old I truly am. Yes, indeed. Do you know my 9yo had no idea what a Walkman is and could barely recall a cassette tape? I had to give him a history lesson. But it's okay, because even though he will never know you, dear sweet Walkman, I will never forget you. You were part of some truly good times, fun times. Yeah man, good times, fun times...

I See in Color

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 26 Oct 2010 13:54:00 +0000

I see in color...
I didn't always see in color. As a matter of fact I can remember the distinct moment in my life when I started seeing in color. The revelation that color existed occurred on my 10th birthday. A friend had given me a Barbie and my eyes lit up with excitement at the sight of the beautiful doll. She was so exotic with her long wavy ebony hair and caramel complexion.

My friend's mother upon seeing my complete thrill over the doll exclaimed with glee, "Ana, now you have a Barbie that looks just like you! We thought you should have a brown barbie because you're brown!"

Truth be told, it wasn't the Barbie's caramel color that made me cherish her as the mother had thought. It was the fact that she was a beautiful and I LOVED Barbie dolls. She could have been black & white with pink polka dots and I wouldn't have cherished her any less. I remember going to my friend's house afterward and her mother would ask me if I brought my brown Barbie along. She put such a great emphasis on the dolls color after awhile I started feeling uncomfortable going to my friend's house.

I see in color...
Years passed and I migrated to the US to go to College. One Saturday morning at college I was hanging out with a bunch of girlfriends and one of the girls divulged that she thought that black girls were "ghetto". I sat there completely stunned as my other friends agreed with her and started talking negatively about some of the black girls on our hall. I quietly contemplated if I should say something or just sit there horrified. One of the girls must have noticed the look on my face and the fact that I was completely silent.

She quickly said, "Oh Ana! We aren't talking about you. Were talking about black girls. Plus you aren't really black anyway, you're more like us." I gave a very sheepish smile, but it was again the awakening to the fact that the world sees in color.

I see in color...
I graduated from college to a new knowledge and understanding about seeing in color, but I still wasn't completely affected by it. I continued to wear my rose colored glasses and didn't see the world in black and white as those around me did. As a young college grad I was career oriented and fortunately I did land a great job. I ran into subtle examples of racism and sexism that reminded me of my college experience, but for the most part I was blind to most situations. One day I was asked by my department head to attend a company conference at the corporate headquarters. As I sat at the conference awaiting the speakers to begin, I looked around the room and thought, "Wow! Am I the only person of color at this conference??" There had been countless times before where I was the lone or token black person representing, but it wasn't something I gave much thought. When I returned to work a few days later I mentioned to a few co-workers that I noticed a lack of diversity at the conference. An older black woman whispered to me that she was surprised the department head had sent me since I was a young black woman.

It was at the conference that I realized that I had finally started seeing in color. Something that had never affected me before (the lack of diversity), now had become important to me. Albeit, I was now seeing in color I also realized I didn't like the way society saw in color. Society seemed to use color as a crutch for prejudice and racism; to hold some down or keep others out.

I see in color...
I was raised seeing diversity. My family was a rainbow of various complexions and hues, made up of brown, white and tan colors all brought together through adoption and birth. Growing up in Haiti, I was exposed to both cultural and ethnic diversity, so it was nothing new to me. Honestly, I don't have a problem with seeing in color. As a matter of fact I think it's good to see in color and even as a child I probably saw in color (i.e. recognized the world is constructed of different racial complexions & groups). However, the danger in seeing in color comes in when doing so creates a system of judging others. Unfortunately, our society uses color to separate, divide and develop othering. As a parent of multiracial children I've come to understand nurturing my boys with the ability to see color without making them conscious of it all the time is a precarious task. I don't want my children to be colorblind and to think that if you see color it's a bad thing. I want them to see color for the beauty diversity is and that the many shades we are all made up of makes each individual unique and special. It's a two-fold process to raise child to appreciate color and it starts with talking about our views on race at home as well as exposing them to diversity in the world around them. Check out this fascinating videos on kids & race. It's a real eye opener.

Friday Foodie: Vegetarian Pizza

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Fri, 22 Oct 2010 15:18:00 +0000

I have no clue why I don't become a vegetarian - seriously. I LOVE vegetables and rarely eat meat these days. However, I know the minute I decide to turn into a full fledge vegetarian I'll probably have a huge craving for a juicy chicken breast or a deliciously broiled piece of fish. I don't eat red meat. As a matter of fact since having my 2nd born I can hardly stand the sight of beef. I think it's the left over reaction I had while pregnant with him. The taste, smell and thought of red meat made me think of dead people. Yes, I know - totally insane, right?

Hey for all you TTCers beware. Pregnancy does wild and crazy things to your emotions and senses. I couldn't eat chicken either because a whole chicken looked like a growing fetus. I kid you not. So the only protein I would eat was fish. However, my taste buds have since regained their appreciate of chicken and I thoroughly enjoy a variety of recipes that call for chicken.

Anyway, one of my favorite meals is pizza. I made the most a-ma-zing veggie pizza the other day and I had to share a picture of it. Don't be jelly once you see it. Hehe...I'll post the recipe one of these days - I promise :)

This scrumptious creature was made with zucchini, yellow squash, broccoli, mushrooms and onions. OOOOOH was it delish! Seriously, my mouth is watering now, just thinking about it. If you love veggies, you'll love this pizza.

Multilingual Children Have a Broader Worldview

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Wed, 20 Oct 2010 14:31:00 +0000

I enrolled my 9yo in his second year of Hebrew and his first year of comprehensive Spanish. Both programs put a strong emphasis on teaching conversational skills and not merely teaching the students the grammatical technicalities of each language. I am super excited about this learning experience for my son. ::Insert happy dance:: You may think I'm fanatically; maybe even a tad bit obsessive about raising my children to be multilingual. Perhaps, my curiosity about languages is due to my own fascination with linguistics and anthropology.

Possibly, my appreciation of languages started when I discovered books. I've always been an avid reader and I enjoy reading books about foreign countries during historical periods that transport you to different places and times. As I read these books I can hear the way the people sound and the words take on new meaning as I imagine the characters interacting in their native vernacular. For me, languages allows me to step into other cultures and to see life from a different point of view. Charlemagne summed it up perfectly in his quote "to have another language is to possess a second soul."

The reality is that languages truly do give a view into the way people understand or perceive the world around them. Languages have perpetually developed and evolved since the dawn of time and give us a distinct window into culture, tradition and worldview. Case in point, a phrase can be spoken in one language and if spoken in another language the meaning can change slightly or can totally be lost in translation. This is a common occurrence when I try to interpret common Haitian Kreyol expressions into English. Sometimes it's difficult to find an adequate English expression that holds the same meaning.

Conversely, when I speak to my family in Kreyol we often intermingle English words into our conversation because some concepts are better conveyed in English. I'm sure this is how Krenglish was born. Kreyol + English = Krenglish. (Inside joke. You probably won't appreciate the humor as much as I do.)

I was reading an analysis on languages that posed the question does language shape the way people think? For decades this question has dazzle academics and caused much controversy among scores of philosophers, anthropologists, linguists, and psychologists. Seventy-years ago Benjamin Lee Whorf tantalized our intellect with the baffling concept about language’s power over the mind that basically stated that our mother tongue restricts what we are able to think. In other words, a person's mother language infringes on a speaker's sensibility in such a way that it prevents him/her from grasping totally different realities expressed in other languages. Whorf's theory further claimed that if a language has no term for a certain thought, then its speakers would not be able to understand this idea.

As you can imagine Whorf's hypothesis is very problematic. Simply because languages relay perceptions in different ways or in some cases fail to express some perceptions, certainly does not mean that the speaker isn't able to embrace new perceptions. Nonetheless, I do agree that languages do hold a certain power over the speaker's reality. Perfect examples of this is the fact that in French, Spanish, Russian and German objects are either feminine or masculine. Often times when speakers of these languages are talking about objects in English they will continue to identify them as feminine or masculine and actually perceive them this way. Most astonishing, is the discovery by anthropologist John Haviland, that certain aboriginal groups communicate personal space (i.e. front, back, right, left, etc) in terms of geographical direction. Hence, if they are pointing to an object to the right of themselves they would say the object is to the west or southwest of their body opposed to saying the object is behind or to the left of themselves.

Arguments have perpetuated for centuries regarding whether languages influence the way people view the world or vice versa. I am in no way a scholar or a linguist to even think I could embark on this debate. Nonetheless, from my mind's eye and from what I've witnessed it's evident to me that there is something to be said about a group of people through the way they communicate. Studies have shown that languages that use grammatical genders (i.e. French, German, Spanish, etc.) to identify objects can shape the emotions and associations the speaker has toward objects around them.

Languages offer a passageway into a culture's inclination and priorities. Take for instance in the English sentence structures, it focuses on the doer of acts and the consequences of those actions. Ergo, our criminal justice system seeks to find the culprit (the doer) and hold him or her liable, rather than finding the victims and atoning them appropriately. In Japanese and Spanish there is no identification of the doer of an act. For example in English we would say "I wrecked my car." However, in Japanese and Spanish the same sentence would be said "The car wrecked itself."

Languages are human constructs that we invent and refine to suit our needs and culture. Languages allows us to uncover, to a degree, what makes us human, providing us a glimpse at the very characteristics of human nature. As we discover how languages and their people contrast, we ascertain that human beings too can differ tremendously, depending on the languages they speak.

One thing is certain it’s been proven that bi-lingual people think differently as they switch between languages. Encouraging my children learn new languages will help them have a broader worldview, which can help them develop divergent thinking, cultural sensitivity and may possibly even help solidify our Christian values.

It truly is the age old question about whether the chicken came first or the egg. Does language structure cultural beliefs or does culture influence our language? Perhaps it's both... What do you think?

image: flickr

My ONE Year Work at home Anniversary!

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Mon, 11 Oct 2010 12:16:00 +0000

This is how we do it when we work at home! LOL

Cut the cake! Throw some confetti! Let's do a little jig! Okay, okay.. So it doesn't warrant that kind of celebration, but I must say that a year ago when I was laid off from work I had no idea that 12 months later I would actually be a bona fide work at home Mom (WAHM). I certainly had hoped that I might be working from home. However, in the back of my mind I seriously had doubts.

Finding another J.O.B. just seemed like the most reasonable and easiest path to travel. I knew I could find another job, maybe not quickly, but with some ingenuity and networking another job would surely be mine. Plus, the fact I had very recently separated from Tar's Dad and the boys and I were adjusting to that change, made the thought of rejoining the outside workforce all the more appealing. Working from home as a single Mom just didn't see like a sensible thing to do. However, despite all the variables that tried to convince me to go back to the corporate world, I was also being pulled by an epiphany I had the morning of my 37th birthday. I could feel that a big change was going to happen, but I didn't know what it was.

As destiny would have it I lost my job and to the surprise of my family & friends (although they lent amazing support) AND myself I decided to give working at home a go. The journey thus far hasn't been without it's bumps. There have been times I had to look myself square in the face and say "You CAN do this!" I even took a 2 month job to help a friend simply because having the extra cushion seemed like a good idea. AND it was a good idea, because I ended up needing that cushion later on. I did freelance opportunities of various kinds - from customer service to web content writing and I even dabbled in social media marketing. I discovered that I genuinely enjoy writing and social media, and consequently that is were I am making the greatest effort to build my portfolio.

I learned that freelancers are easily expendable and that if you see an opportunity you want you can't be afraid to ~~whore~~ sell yourself. However, on the other end I discovered that if you make a great impression to your client they will be devoted and loyal to you even to the extent that they will send you a lovely spa package for your birthday. Awww - how sweet... ::blushes::

So, as you can see, it hasn't been easy, it hasn't always been smooth, but it's definitely been worth every learning experience along the way. And now that I've come this far there is no turning back. I finally figured out what I want to do when I grow up, so watch out world I'm coming for ya!

image: courtesy flickr

Arrested Development is BACK and going GREEN!

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 05 Oct 2010 13:37:00 +0000

Do you remember Arrested Development? I LOVE that group and then one sad day they just disappeared. But good news! They're BACK and this new joint is the jam!

I've had the real pleasure of following Jason “@therealjjboogie” Reichert tweets. Reicherts is the guitarist, writer & mixing engineer for Arrested Development. He is awesome! He's lent amazing support to NWNW, which I think is so giving of him. But beyond of that, I find that his tweets radiate so much kindness, gentleness and love which speak loudly of the beauty of his personality. I can't wait until Arrested Developments new album drops like hot potatoes! Because it will!

Curls. Curls. Everywhere.

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 15:01:00 +0000

Tar, my secondborn, gets a lot of compliments on his curls. "Oh they're so beautiful!" or "Curls like that should be on a girl" (huh?) or "He has curls people pay money for!" The elderly women seem to particularly adore is curls and I get a kick out of their comments.

Not too long ago, I was in Walgreens and an elder lady stop us in the aisle to admire, Tar's curls. "Oh how precious! He looks just like my son at that age (for some reason Tar always looks like their son at that age). He had the most dreamy curls and then as he got older his curls disappeared. By the time he was 4 all his curls were gone. *releasing a deep sign* Well, enjoy those curls while they last, because before you know it his hair will be straight."

This is a picture of his hair freshly wet & moisturized.

I chuckled to myself because multiracial hair tends to do the opposite. Multiracial children can be born with very straight hair and then it can gradually turns curly within a few years. Of course, as a mother, it's nice to hear others shower sweet words on your child. However, in the back of my mind I can't help but think of the struggles I have to tame my dear child's hair. Tar's hair is a unique blend of soft, coarse and straight curls. He honestly has all three textures on his head. Also, his hair is dry by nature - particularly where his hair is coarse. I have to keep it moisturized, otherwise taming it isn't easy. My product of choice so far has been shea butter. Another thing about his hair is the drier it is the straighter it becomes and his curls aren't so defined. Also, the longer his hair is the less defined his curls are.

I always wet his hair and then moisturize it because if you saw his bedhead in the morning - whoa! His hair will be sticking out all over this place in a partly curly, partly straight disarray. Once his hair is wet his hair curls up nicely and then I put a light bit of shea butter on it to give it sheen and luster. That's pretty much my routine with his hair. I don't think I've ever comb or brushed Tar's hair. LOL! Seriously! I just wet, moisturize, tussle and go!

I never imaged that with having boys, I'd ever have to think about what types of products to use on their hair. But let me ask you folks:

What products have you personally tried and like on your multiracial children's hair?

NWNW: When Supporting a Cause is Cause for Self Examination

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 18:12:00 +0000

"So, Ms. Gazawi. Tell me about No Wedding No Womb (NWNW) and why you joined this movement." The therapist asked without lifting his head, as he continued to scribble away on a notepad in his lap.

"Well the reason seemed simply enough at the time. NWNW is about encouraging men and women to want better for themselves and their children. The 70% out-of- wedlock (OOW) births in the black community signifies a break down in the family construct and I believe that strong families are the lifeblood of a health society." I responded, while reminiscing about the reasons that lead me to join the movement.

"Telling me what has joining this movement revealed to you about yourself?" The therapist asked in a slow, demure manner as he lifted his eyes in my direction and held my gaze for a moment, before returning them to the notepad.

I shifted nervously on the couch. I hadn't expected this question. Quite honestly, I really didn't appreciate it, because it seemed to imply I might have joined the movement for the wrong reasons or that my reasons for joining weren't well thoughtout.

My mind wandered off to what had ultimately lead me to join the movement and I momentarily lost myself in recollection. Initially, the name of the movement, No Wedding No Womb, had given me a bit of pause due to the fact that it seemed to imply that marriage was the cure all for the OOW problem. However, after doing my due diligence, I was put at ease. I decided to join NWNW because I felt it would be a great platform to provoke men and women to openly discuss the problem of OOW births and the importance of dual parental involvement in children's lives. My hope was that this conversation would open doors to a meaningful and engaging interaction that could potentially spawn change.Undoubtedly, discussion alone is not nearly enough. The next step must be creating solutions that ultimately lead to the implementation of those ideas.

The day of event I was full of excitement and it felt good to be apart of something that was sending a positive message. I expected that critics would eventually rear their heads. As a matter of fact, I looked forward to what they had to say. The best way to shape a movement (in my opinion) is to have a health balance of supporters and critics who can guide its purpose down the right path. Slowly, the critics began to surface and then quickly that trickling turned into a downpouring of nay-sayers. It wasn't their size that befuddled me it was who they were.

To my utter amazement, the biggest opponents of the movement were women, many of whom were themselves in the throws of baby mamahood or single motherhood. I understood how the movement's name could put some baby-mamas and even single mothers ill at ease. Remember? I said it had put me in an uncomfortable place for a moment as well. However, after I took the time to understand the foundational purpose of this movement I realized that it's about our children and how they deserve both parents.

I suppose I took it for granted that if I, a single mother, could be discerning that others in my shoes would be able to do the same. However, what I quickly found out is that the more explaining that was done to dispel the misconceptions the more aggressively opponents clutched onto their fallacies. Eventually the dispute completely deviated from the important issue, our children, and was taken in wild and incongruent tangents. Some examples: the movement was about bashing baby-mamas/single mothers, that our definition of baby-mamas was flawed, that NWNW was a movement to promote interracial marriages that, and the most absurd tangent of all, we wanted to promote marriage so that the divorce rate would go up (LOL...seriously? Simply ridiculous).

"Ummm..well...what did it reveal to me about myself? Well, I realize that passion drives people. That driving force can lead to frustration and frustration can thrust change or it can become a vehicle for completely irrational behavior. Doctor, for the first time I realize that there's a fine line between wanting to work for change and wanting to act irrational. I saw myself teetering on the edge of both because I was perplexed that so many black women don't see the enomity of the OOW problem and many more don't even care. This complacency scares me for my own children since this issue impacts their future. I guess I've learned just how disconcerning this problem is to me. I'm scared..."

Disclaimer: No therapy sections actually took place. Although, I might benefit from some after this movement...lol

No Wedding No Womb: The strong black woman

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Wed, 22 Sep 2010 04:00:00 +0000

Today - September 22nd - bloggers, writers, political pundits, filmmakers and many other will join together in a movement called No Wedding No Womb (NWNW). NWNW's purpose is to broadcast to the nation that participants stand in unison to say we want to be apart of changing the 72% out of wedlock births in the black community. This vision began as a "light bulb" moment by social activist Christelyn Karazin and has now taken on a life of it's own by her unrelenting dedication and energy for the this cause. Below is my contribution and if you would like to read other participants contribution click here.

She’s a strong black woman, that’s what she’s called. She can bring home the bacon, raise her family single handedly, nurture a boy into a man and teach her daughters how to handle life. She’s a strong black woman. At times it’s hard to distinguish her from the plantation Mamie. When put side by side their characteristics are the same, the mentality hasn’t changed. Centuries ago we birthed her out of necessity. The storyteller, Andrew Johnson, articulates her essence in his poem Black Women:

In times of Jim Crow you shouldered the weight, brought food home when I could not even work, borne the children, cleaned the house, and raised my children. A strong black woman.

For generations we’ve perpetuated her existence, celebrated her, relished and marveled about her. We owe our lives to her. She carried us in our most bitter times - through slavery and the civil rights. She was there in our most jubilant hour – with tears streaming down her face she choked the words Yes we can! as President Obama took his oath, knowing that sacrifices from mothers like her made it possible.

Why is it that her persona that once sustained us is now killing us? How is it that she has created a mentality that is uprooting our community at its foundation and yet we continue to give her praise? When did the metamorphosis from strong black woman to baby mama transpire and how did we not see this coming?

She’s everywhere, this strong black woman. I met her while working for the Department of Children & Families (DCF). Time after time she would recount her courageous stories through heartfelt tears and gut-wrenching candor. She’d share her remarkable tales of bravery to battle poverty and keep her children off the streets. I ran into her in corporate America. She wasn’t always conspicuous in her Rebecca Taylor suit, Nine West shoes and Coach hand-bag, but time always dispelled her facade. Education and position didn’t change her; she was a strong black woman rearing her family – alone.

At times I would ask her on the whereabouts of the children's father(s) while displaying visible disdain at his disappearance from their lives. Instantaneously, she would transform and her back would stiffen, she’d throw back her head and through pursed lips and beaded eyes she’d fume that her children didn’t need their father(s).

“I AM their father! I AM their mother! I AM all they need! They don’t need that good for nothing bastard!” A strong black woman would shriek in my office at DCF in such a loud manner her voice could be heard bellowing through the halls. A strong black woman in corporate America was far more demure, but would display much the same mannerisms whilst explaining “What can he do for my children? He can’t even maintain a job. What kind of father could he possibly be to them?”

I’d try to interject that even though she may not like her children’s father(s), the children needed the paternal connection and bond. “What about the children?” I’d ask. “Have you thought about how not having their father(s) around is hurting them?” Abruptly, she’d interrupt me and continue on a rampage that her children’s father(s) were useless, jobless, cheating, lying and the list would run on for hours if I allowed it.

A strong black woman needs to reexamine what really makes her strong; she needs to acknowledge that she might have weaknesses; she needs to look down on the innocent little face looking up at her. My fear is a strong black woman's attitude and complacency is depriving her children of one of the most basic rights they have and so desperately want – a father.

Strong Black Woman, please allow me to implore to you for a moment. I know your story: A deadbeat father who refuses to pay child support. A jobless father with no money. A cheating father who ran off with your best friend. A father who visits inconsistently.

Despite how little you may think of him, not allowing him into his children’s lives is killing them. Although, not all of your children are going to ruin, many of them are. Many of your sons are developing into men with no identity. And many of your daughters are growing into women who can’t recognize healthy male attention. Strong Black Woman we need to stop the revolving cycle of fatherlessness and end the perception that our women will only settle to be baby-mama. Strong Black Woman it's never too late to fight for your children so they won't end up a lost, confused and aimless people who have no vision and no self-worth. Many have already reached this point, but we can stop many more from getting there.

Strong Black Woman, lay down your arrogance. Suck up your pride. Admit that you cannot parent your children alone any longer. Your children’s hearts are bleeding for their father’s presence. Strong Black Woman, I know you hear their cries. Can you really afford to stifle the sounds of their pain any longer? Turn to your brother – your children’s father, your grandfather, your father, your male sibling, your uncle, a strong male figure – and tell him you need his help in raising our nation’s future. By doing this, my Strong Black Woman, you will exemplify the true essence of the strong black woman; for she is not afraid to admit that she can’t raise her children on her own. It takes a village to raise a child and the starting place is with Mom and Dad. The matter is urgent. Turn to your brother now.

To read what other NWNW participants are saying click here.

Beauty in the Imperfection (Redux) - A rant

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 21 Sep 2010 07:57:00 +0000

Lady, get a grip! So what if you weren't able to push out them babies like a real woman - like I did. Heck, that big 'ole scar on your belly is a...uhhh...mmm...an honor. Yep, that's what it is. It's your badge of courage doggone it! So wear it with pride and know lots of woman can't have babies. Yep. Your problem is you're too darn vain. It's that Hollywood, ya know. Having all our youngin' thinkin' they gotta look like Angelina Jolie and all.

Did you read my Self-loathing-I-hate-myself-It-sucks-to-be-me post over at Momsofhue.com? Seriously, I didn't write a post like that, but for some of the reactions the article garnered, I really should have. To give you a brief synopsis of what I wrote, I basically came clean that I don't like my c-section scar. I don't and I probably never will. It's with a paradoxical set of emotions that I view my scar. I absolutely adore my kids and would rebirth them via c-section if I had to because ultimately their safety is (and was) paramount. However, my scar symbolizes the death of a dream I had to have children in a natural, non medicated way. It represents an appropriated choice, if you will.

It's taken me a while to digest what got some in a frenzy about my article, but I *think* I *might* have stumbled onto something... Actually, this is going to be a rant more than an "Aha! I figured it out!" so humor me if you will. And if you won't, I plan to enter into your space any way and tell you what I think. Yep. I'm just inviting myself in, plopping down on your couch and planning to unload. As a matter of fact if you plan on sitting down with me, would you mind bringing a cup of tea? I prefer Chamomile and I'll take honey with that, not sugar.

In all fairness to the comments, encouragements, misemployed judgments, at the heart of it all, I get it. I really do and for the most part I appreciated what each commenter had to say. Our society is far to tangled up in outer beauty. On that same vein we do need to learn to value and appreciate our complete selves - body, mind and spirit - and that mean accepting our exterior flaws along with what makes us unique and different. As a friend of mine once said, it's a person's physical flaws that makes them beautiful - it makes them human. Women, somehow, have more difficulty accepting this reality because I think society puts way more pressure on women to look good. Initially, I think pressure was put on women to be outwardly beautiful, so they could appeal to the opposite sex and find a suitable mate. However, in today's world, women put this burden upon themselves, because they've forgotten where their true beauty lies. We are a lost and dying society inwardly, so to compensate for this, women try to alter their exterior image in hopes of finding a quick fix for their deteriorating interior self. And I realize this isn't just a problem for women. Men are just as guilty, however I don't think men feel the need to strive for outer beauty to compensate for inner problems. Men tend to go for position, power, cars, etc. See I told ya, I get it.

Here's where this conversation gets bizarre and twists off into a blurry fog.When it comes to creating and birthing babies, the standard changes. All of sudden it seems that the more elaborate the stories of birth or the bigger the trials a woman had to overcome, the more phenomenal she is. It's as if every woman want to have a war story, flaws, battle scars. I was at the park and overheard a group of mothers chatting up their delivery stories. One woman started off by sharing that she was in labor for 15 hours and went into details of about her delivery woes. As soon as her story was told, other women started telling their birthing stories and it began to sound like each woman was trying to out do the other.

One lady, who was in labor for 36 hours, nearly had a c-section, her blood pressure drop and her baby's heart rate decreased to a dangerously low rates. Another lady said she had Placenta Previa. Still another said that her baby had a cord wrap around the baby's neck. And as each woman shared their birthing story it seemed that the stories got more dramatic and traumatic as they went along. They shared gory details about how much tearing, stitching, cutting and weeks of agonizing healing they endured. By the time I walked away from their blathering, I (almost) felt ashamed of myself for not experiencing as much trauma as they did. Geez, I must not be a true woman since I didn't suffer much to bring my babies into this world - all I had was a lil 'ole c-section. (please insert copious amounts of sarcasm)

This isn't the first time I've witnessed this. On other occasions I've observed this same behavior and I've tried to analyze the reasoning behind it. It's as if for some women, the degree of sacrifice they made to birth their child is iconic of their love for that child. Yea ladies, I went to the ends of the earth - hell and back - to birth this baby! You know I love this baby more than anything. I've got the scars to prove it! I know. I know. I'm sure none of you have ever noticed this or none of the women you hang around talk about their child's birth in this manner. It must be just the women I encounter, right? What's that? Crazy people, attract crazy people - is that what you said? *scoots off couch to avoid being thrown out*

Well anyway, even though you won't admit to my theory, I do appreciate that you listened to my rant. No need get up and see me out. I know where the door is...

No Wedding No Womb

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 12:19:00 +0000

It's ONE voice but many, many bloggers banding together to say that we do not support the baby-mama/daddy syndrome that has reached epidemic proportions in the black community. This cause called No Wedding No Womb was spearheaded by the phenomenal Christelyn Karazin of Beyond Black & White.

This movement is not just for black blogger - all bloggers who would like to show support are absolutely welcome. The fact is the 72% out of wedlock births with in the black community is a problem that is affecting all Americans. Will you raise your voice in support with us on September 22 to say children deserve both a mother and a father?

Raising Multicultural Children

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 13:59:00 +0000

When a person has children with someone from a different culture more than likely this person will ponder at some point, "What culture will our children have?". If this person doesn't ponder this question on their own , then likely this person's extended family will pose this question to said person.

Both situations are true in my case. I am Haitian and the children's fathers are Israeli and American. Often, when Americans think of Haitian culture they immediately land on voodoo. I laugh about that because I'm amazed that some of them know more about voodoo than I do. I wasn't raised believing in voodoo. Actually, most Haitians I grew up with didn't believe in it either. It's not to say that voodoo isn't a strong force in Haitian culture. However, I think it's gotten a bigger rap than it deserves.

When my extended family speak about passing on culture they are referring to our Haitian music, dance, language, art, food and traditions. Certainly, I make an effort to expose my children to these things. I want them to have experienced the unique rhythm of our music or witnessed the beauty of our dances. They probably won't become fluent in Haitian Creole, but I expect them to be able to utter common pleasantries. Haitian art is some of the most sought after art in the world. I want them to be proud of the creativity of my people. Without a doubt my children's palate will be tantalized by the unique flavors and tastes of Haitian cuisine. It's impossible for me to cook and not incorporate something from the islands.

When I think about my personal culture I realize it probably isn't as representative of Haitian culture as I would have originally thought. This is by no means to say that I don't hold true to certain characteristics of a bonafide Haitian. It's more to say that I have assimilated and incorporated ways and beliefs of other cultures through exposure, friendship and adventures. My own culture is a manifestation of my life experiences and therefore a definition of who I am.

My hope is the culture I pass on to my children is about my interests, passions and dreams. I pray they see a culture in me that is optimistic, positive and encouraging. Moreover, the most important things I would want to pass on to them are my spiritual beliefs, my love for them and my dedication to my family. I aspire to build a culture in them that they can be whatever they want. I desire that they know that through struggles and disappointments there is always a lesson to be learnt and not to give in to failure. I would hope the culture I pass on to them would make them better people than myself and more successful in their own right.

*repost*

Black Women's Healthy: Fibroids

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 13:34:00 +0000

I was watching a documentary on infertility recently. My heart just wept for some of these couples that desperately wanted babies. I was particularly saddened by a black couple that had put a second mortgage on their home to help cover the costs of infertility treatment only to be left with a massive debt and no baby. Years before the husband and wife had met each other, the woman had suffered from large fibroid tumors that had to be removed surgically.

I thought about my own journey to have children. I was a young 22 year old college grad. I was engaged to a man I thought was my prince-come. He was incredibly handsome, my a gorgeous mahogany man. He was smart and ambitious and had two degrees in both mechanical and electrical engineering. As soon as I graduated I dashed off to Belize so that we could be wedded in marital bliss and begin our lives together. We didn’t want to start a family for several years so the decision was made that I would go on birth control. His sister-in-law took me to the pharmacy where she purchased her pills and I soon discovered that buying birth control in Belize is no different than buying a pair of shoes. You look at the selection available on the shelf, pick one, buy it and move on with your life.

That decision nearly cost me my baby making parts. A few weeks into taking those pills my life began to crumble – literally. The guy I thought was my prince-come ended up being my prince not-at-all. In the midst of dealing with my deteriorating relationship, I also started having massive bleeding issues. A Belizean doctor told me that I needed to continue taking the pills so that my body could adjust to the new hormones. I didn’t agree with his advice so I quit taking them. By this time my relationship with my ex-fiance was over and I flew back to the US.

A few weeks after returning to the US, the bleeding started again, so I consulted with a gynecologist who prescribed an ultrasound. It was discovered that I had developed fibroids. For the next year different attempts were made to reduce the Fibroids, but they continued to grow. Eventually, the doctor decided that a myomectomy was necessary.

Just before my 24th birthday the surgery was performed. At my first doctor’s appointment following the surgery, the doctor solemnly told me that I might not be able to have children...

To continue reading about my journey with Fibroids and to learn how we can minimize our risks, click here.

Dora the Explorer is Alright by Me!

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 14:54:00 +0000

Tar, my 2yo has a fascination with kid show that he can interact with. His two current (he's constantly changing what he likes) faves are Special Agent Oso on the Disney Channel and Dora the Explorer. I have to admit I. Do. Not. Like. Dora. That show drives me crazy or maybe it's my son that's driving me crazy. I think I shall loose my mind if he asks me again to sing the map or backpack song, help Dora find her way, choose the right item in her backpack, repeat another Spanish word...and the list goes on.

Yesterday, I sat Tar down in front of the telly to watch Dora so I could get some work done. He was thoroughly enjoying himself and I was engrossed in my project. A few minutes later he comes bouncing over to me chanting his numbers in Spanish. My mouth fell open in amazement! I guess I shouldn't hate on Dora anymore :)

The Move

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 05:10:00 +0000

Some of you know of our plans to move, although I don't remember if I ever officially made mention of it here. I think I hinted about it on FB and twitter at times. I probably subconsciously remained mum about it because I didn't want to jinx our plans. Anyway, to catch up those who don't know what I'm talking about, we had planned to move to Plano, Texas. Had things gone as planned we would technically be leaving in 2 weeks.

Anyway, as fate would have it, plans had to change and we aren't moving there anymore. At first I was devastated, thinking this was going to be another NC move gone wrong. However, once again fate came around to do it's thing and we are moving yet again. However, this time it looks as though it's going to be Colorado. I am TOTALLY ecsatic!! After I thought hard about why I was devastated about not moving to Texas I realized it was simply the disappointment of not being able to leave Florida; not a true desire to move to Texas. For all you wanna-be Floridian migrants, it's so not worth it. Stay where you are or look at other options.

Alright. Alright. Let me stop ragging on Florida. I guess it's good for some things - sun, beach, sun, beach, sun, sun, sun. See I told you Florida didn't have a lot going for it. Hehehe... I grew up in an area of Haiti surrounded by mountains (and beaches too) and I miss that terribly. Plus, I'm a rough and tumble kind of girl (with girlie tendencies) and I love hiking, biking and the good outdoors. There is nothing in the way of great outdoor activities that happen in Florida.

Now that the doors have opened for Colorado, I am so, SO ready to go. Now that the cat's out of the bag, your prayers are coveted :) I know God will work everything out for the best. Interestingly enough, I made a few really awesome friends in Texas through FB & twitter networking. I'm sadden that I won't get to meet them in person. But, thank goodness for social media - no friendship ever goes lost :) I'm back to networking again this time with an eye on Colorado. Once again FB & twitter are proving to be vital resources. What would we do without them?? Don't answer, because if you say a negative word about either the friendship ends right there. LOL What can I say? I'm an addict. #NoIDon'tNeedHelp

I shall keep you all posted and if you have information that you think would be useful, certainly feel free to share :)

The Questionable School Supply Lists

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 16:10:00 +0000

Since my 8 year old started school, each year I've found myself increasingly mystified by the school supply lists. Buying supplies like pens, pencils, erasers, markers, etc I have no issues with. However, when the lists starts asking for disinfecting spray, 4-5 reams of paper, anti-bacterial hand sanitizer and the likes, I start scratching my head. Despite, not being in total agreement that I should have to provide the latter list, I've gotten used to purchasing these types of items.

However, this year I just about keeled over when the list requested a jump drive and a $39.99 headset (and it had to be a specific one). Goodness! What will it be next year? Will I be requested to buy a computer? I just can't seem to wrap my head around such lofty supply demands. I realize the school he goes to pushes an advanced reading, math and science based program. In addition to those programs, they encourage and utilize the computer quite a bit. The administration feels the children should be computer savvy by 5th grade. I have no problem with their emphasis on technology and how they integrate it into the learning process. But again, to what extent should this push put a major pinch on parents' pocket book?

I get that the economy is tough and that schools are unfortunately, one of the first pillars of society to take a knocking. It's not as if we can afford to let our school go down the drain with our tax dollars. Thanks to the great efforts of President Obama who would rather spend billions on condom ads, than to increase the amount of money given to our school systems... I digress... I'm just trying to understand what the White House is thinking or even IF it's thinking.

Anyway, what is on your child(ren)'s school supply list? Has there been any particular item on there that has made you double blink?

Kids Say the Darndest Things (Tar's Edition)

noreply@blogger.com (Quiskaeya) — Sat, 21 Aug 2010 18:49:00 +0000

Tar giving the *dead fish eye* stare.

Tar, my two year old, has come up with quirky, cute names that he calls certain items. Examples of this would be, he calls his blanket his nice-and-warm. He pronounces it nice-ah-worn. Whenever I tuck him in at night, I usually give him a hug or a squeeze and tell him that now he's nice and warm. Hence, why he thinks of his blanket as his nice and warm. Too swaheeet! Another item he's given a cutsie name to is body lotion. He refers to it as ice-cream soap. I'm not sure where he got this reference to lotion, but it's way too adorable and funny of a description for me to correct him. I suppose lotion could resemble ice-cream to the eyes of a two year old. Since I usually apply it on his skin right after he's bathed, it does have a connection to soap. It's interesting the way toddlers process knowledge, isn't it?

Anyway, we were at that grocery store, waiting in the check out line. A lady behind us had a bottle of lotion in her hand. Tar saw the bottle and blurted out, "You gonna buy some ice-cream soap?" The lady gave him the *dead fish eye* stare and replied "Huh? No sweetie, I'm not buying ice-cream or soap." Then it was my two year's turn to give the lady the *dead fish eye* stare. I could barely contain my laughter! It was too funny. I can just imagine what Tar was thinking in his head. #KidsSaytheDarndestThings