Category: Bachelor to Baba

Waka Waka (This Time for Africa)

My stepson recently performed in a dance routine to this song at his school.  When he used to rehearse I used to pray for a day when I wouldn’t have to listen to this song.  It’s been three weeks since that performance. Three blessed Waka Waka free weeks.  But you know that saying about absence making a heart grow fonder, well you can apply it here…

A Father’s Place Is in the School – NY Times

The NYT recently ran two pieces about increased involvement by men in PTAs.  First appearing in the Sunday edition with a supplement in Monday’s School Book, these articles explored how what’s happening in New York’s public schools is part of a nationwide trend:

A 2009 study by the National Congress of Parents and Teachers and the National Center for Fathering, a nonprofit educational organization, found that 590 of 1,000 fathers surveyed nationwide said they attended school parent meetings. That is up from 470 out of 1,000 a decade earlier.

via A Father’s Place Is in the School – SchoolBook.

While I have not joined the PTA, I’ve gradually become more active/present in the school-lives of both boys over the last two years.  In Teen Khalifa’s case, I was simply another  “Football Dad,” that army of men that for the love of the gridiron does everyone from 6am drop-offs to cooking breakfasts for the team.  Sports have long been the one place where you are guaranteed to find paternal engagement.

With Singing Biscuit it’s a bit more complex.  He now attends school where I work, so not only have I had to acclimate myself to this environment as a teacher/employee, I am also having to do so as a parent.  This is no easy task, and one that I am just now starting to get the groove of.  Singing Biscuit’s teachers are both my peers and his teachers so I have to remember to keep the same distance as I would with one of Teen Khalifa’s teachers when approaching them.

These NYT articles really resonated because in some ways I am where many of the men mentioned in the article were 5-6years prior and its interesting reading about their evolutions at their children’s schools.

Black Gold: Esperanza Spalding

I found the first half of this video interesting. It’s great seeing images like this of fathers communicating with sons about things other than sports. Even a diehard sports fan like myself, I say only about 20% of the conversations I have with the boys involve sports. There are certain spikes, but for the most part, we talk precisely about what this man and his two boys talk about…school and what they’re learning in general

Tea Cup

Every so often I stumble across an item that has now become emblematic of this transition from bachelor to baba. After I finished feeding Turtle Biscuit this morning I took a look at this teacup and my mind wandered back to its origin. When I first purchased it I was a bachelor in BK dreaming up a book called “Brooklyn Bedrooms.” This teacup was part of a tea set that was intended to give my bachelor pad some softer edges. Never did I think that one day these cups would be holding various smoothies and veggie purees created for Turtle Biscuit. Thinking back on it, I couldn’t help but smile at how much things have changed and how blessed I’ve been for these changes.

Stomach Flu is no joke

When I first sat down to write this post last week I thought my first line would be something about bad things happening in threes, but unless that adage has been amended, I’ve got to come up with something new. Just when it seemed that Teen Biscuit, aka, Teen Khalifa, had eluded the stomach flu that brought down his mother and siblings, he went down for the count on Saturday evening leaving me as the last person standing (literally).

All that I can say is that I’ve never seen anything like this before. Friday night I thought I was in a frat house bathroom the way that Snuggle Biscuit and Singing Biscuit were running in and out to throw up. And on Sunday morning, I went all surgical and bleached every counter in the house. By the time I got to the second bathroom, I practically needed a gas mask so as to not succumb to the scent of the bleach.

But the job got done and now everyone appears to be on the mend.

I cannot stress enough that the stomach flu is not a joke. Whether or not you have kids, be as diligent as possible in washing your hands. Be mindful of your colleagues and take an occasional sick day if you’re feeling ill. And I can’t stress this enough, hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Drinking water and keeping hydrated will help your recovery immensely in the event that you do get sick.

By the way, you don’t need to take my word for the severity of the stomach flu. Read here fore more info

Grindin’: Once An Immigrant….

Every once in a while I catch a glimpse of our dining room table and it hits me how far Snuggle Biscuit and I have come from our Caribbean roots. My mother would have never allowed casual meals at her dining table. The same thing goes for Snuggle Biscuit’s grandmother with whom she lived while growing up. Funny thing is, because our folks are Caribbean, the “special events” were few and far in between. Instead, the tables often sat idle, perfectly set and everyone knew to steer clear of them if you want to avoid the wrath of the Woman of the House.

In our house however, the dining table functions as a desk, storage counter, and occasional dining area. It’s used so often that it’s the inverse of the ones we had growing up.

I’d ask what my mother thinks of our behavior, but since she only sees the table during “special events” aka her visits, she’ll never be the wiser.

Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.: “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break the Silence”

The truth of these words is beyond doubt, but the mission to which they call us is a most difficult one. Even when pressed by the demands of inner truth, men do not easily assume the task of opposing their government’s policy, especially in time of war. Nor does the human spirit move without great difficulty against all the apathy of conformist thought within one’s own bosom and in the surrounding world. Moreover, when the issues at hand seem as perplexing as they often do in the case of this dreadful conflict, we are always on the verge of being mesmerized by uncertainty; but we must move on.