“I’ll fly away, oh gloryyy, I’ll fly away”
Were the words I sang while laying my beloved grand pops/friend and birthday twin to rest. He passed only a week after the kids, and I moved into our new place. Another death, really God? How am I suppose to continue to “be strong” and mask these tears from the kids?
They don’t understand my stress. Hell, they talk about our Aunt B every day anyway asking hella questions. Death is such a weird thing to explain to kids (especially back to back deaths). Zae is giving me hell every day during homework time. I’m stressed out and dealing with an overwhelming myriad of emotions I never felt. Why now?
These were things I thought while boarding my boeing 757 en route back to Atl. Time to put on that inspirational speaking face. I’ll take a double jack neat this flight.
The kids are adjusting surprisingly well at their new school. I’m proud of them for diving in. I know it’s a hard thing to be removed from everyone and everything you know so suddenly. That said, I always remind myself to be more patient. Lord knows I have work to do. We have tremendous amounts of work to do, but I’m committed. Blows my mind how they never had help with homework.
“No one ever helped us, so we just have to make F’s,” sighed my little man Zae.
“Not in this house!” I declared. This is where it gets frustrating. My reality in knowing I’m up against 9 & 11 years of negative learned behavior. The lack of accountability, structure, support, basic essentials and parenting.
Errrrr, this is not about him I tell myself daily. Admitting, the passion of dislike grows daily for my father. It is not the children’s fault they’re behind academically. They are incredibly smart! They just need help. On the flip side, it is a lot of transition and a severe culture shock. From a dismally performing school and impoverished area on the South side of Chicago (Inglewood to be exact) to middle-class life in Midtown, Atlanta… Yes, definitely. Culture shock.
I get it!
I truly understand all the behind the scenes sacrifices parents make. We do what we need to do for those we love. Right? Honestly, I had 0 plans of renewing my lease and was open to relocating out of GA this year.
Not only did I upgrade my apartment size, but I also signed/extended a new lease to stay in the area. My address happened to be zoned for one of the top 20 elementary schools in the state. Sheeze! It’s only 13% black… I thought. Well, at least they’ll have the resources needed. Besides, change and exposure can be good. I told myself over and over (to be comfy with them). Thinking of their future: I had to. These are all things I wouldn’t have factored into my solo movements.
Here I am meeting teachers, packing lunches, signing permission slips, creating flash cards, affirmations, study guides and doing massive amounts of laundry. The mocking, hitting and telling on each other never stops. Children are petty as hell! I’m still getting used to voices in my living room, pouting, the inability to have cocktails with my girls, eating in peace, going to watch the game and being free.
Ps. adding an extra hour of time to everything is killing me. Culture shock indeed.